


As You Pass Through Me

by wannaliveindeansdimples



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst and Feels, Angst and Porn, Angst with a Happy Ending, Consensual ghost cuddles, Dubious Consent, Dubious Morality, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Ghost Castiel, Ghost Drifting, Ghost Sex, Ghosts, Heavy Angst, M/M, Masturbation in Shower, Shower Sex, Trauma, Voyeurism, implied naked butts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-26
Updated: 2016-03-02
Packaged: 2018-05-16 08:42:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 30,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5821774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wannaliveindeansdimples/pseuds/wannaliveindeansdimples
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cas has lived in this house all his life... and since his untimely death. The last thing he wants is a new roommate, but it seems he's getting one anyway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Kind of Madness

**Author's Note:**

> Do you trust me?

_♫"And isn't that a kind of madness? To be living by a code of silence when you really got a lot to say?"♪_ \- Billy Joel, Code of Silence

 

 

Being dead was not very satisfying. It was, if Cas was honest, actually rather unpleasant, most days. Or at least it had been, until the man moved in.

***

Cas didn’t exactly remember dying. He vaguely remembered falling _pushedIwaspushed_ and he recalled a great deal of pain. Then everything had sort of faded out. The next thing he knew, he had been back in his room, able to see right through his own hands.

Time had been sketchy during the first little while. He would feel like minutes had passed, only to realize day had become night or vice versa. Therefore, he had no idea of how long he’d been dead when his family started packing up their house to move.

He hadn’t ventured outside his room much up to that point. He hadn’t been a fan of his family while he was alive, and they offered even less comfort now that he was dead _theirfaultitwastheirfault!whosefaultwasit?_ He’d occasionally wandered downstairs to the kitchen out of boredom, but he never stayed long.

He had noticed the boxes around the place on his last trip, but not in the way of actually taking in their existence or questioning why they might be there. It wasn’t until they came into his room and started packing things up that he’d realized what was truly happening. He had watched, his primary feeling simple apathy, as they took away his clothes, his books, and his bed. He’d only mourned the books, though he couldn’t even read them now.

When his room was finally empty—it actually took a depressingly short period of time, which was obvious even to his time-challenged ghost-self—his brother Gabriel surprised him by walking in, closing the door, and crumpling to the floor in tears.

He had always gotten along best with Gabe, but in recent years, since they’d both graduated high school, they had grown apart. Gabriel didn’t even live in the house anymore. Well, Cas supposed, none of them lived in the house anymore. His family were moving out of it and he himself... undeaded in it.

He watched as his brother wept, sorry that they’d not kept in touch better and stayed as close as they’d once been. Gabe sat there in tears until he was called from downstairs that it was time to go. Then he wiped his face, putting on a stoic expression that gave no sign of what he’d just done, and walked out the door.

Cas moved to the window and watched as they got into a car and a moving van and pulled away. A profound loneliness settled over him. He was alone.

***

The day the man moved in, it was raining. Cas had been floating near the ceiling, listening to the droplets hitting the roof and drifting in that strange head space he had now that he was a ghost. A noise from outside drew him to the window.

A moving truck, much smaller than the one his family had used, was parked in the drive, and behind it a long black car that looked like it would make a serviceable hearse with very little modification. Cas gave a ghostly sigh, hoping the man wouldn’t choose his room to sleep in. Although there was a master suite downstairs, Cas had a strong feeling that the man would.

Cas watched as the man unhitched the black car from the truck and drove it out onto the street, so he could park it curbside. Then the man pulled out with the truck and deftly backed it into the space, in order to shorten the trip to move everything inside.

Once the man opened the back of the truck, Cas was frankly surprised the man had no one with him to help. Cas was on the verge of offering his assistance when he realized once again that he was a ghost. It was rare these days that he forgot, but sometimes, it did happen.

The man got the ramp extended from the back of the truck and had just climbed up to get an item put on the dolly when his phone rang. Cas watched his shoulders slump slightly and he drifted outside to get close enough to hear the man’s part of the conversation.

“Nah, Sammy, it’s fine. I know you got important shit to do. I can handle this by myself. Charlie promised to help out and I think Benny might drop by.”

Now that Cas was close, he was struck by how breathtaking the man’s looks were. He was exceptionally good-looking in a way that made Cas’ heart ache—or would have if he’d really had one. Still, it was the ghostly equivalent of that sensation and he didn’t like it. He wanted to dislike this intruder in his home, not be drawn to him.

Then Cas realized how sad the man looked as he talked to this “Sammy” person. It was obvious that Sammy had stood the man up with help on the moving in. When the man ended the call a text on his phone stated Charlie was also unable to make it.

“Why would anyone give up the chance to stand next to you and watch your beautifully crafted form?” Cas wondered.

The man sighed and scrolled through his contacts to the listing for Benny. “Hey, man, you—” The man abruptly stopped talking, face falling even further. “Yeah, no, I get it. Okay. Sure thing. Bye.”

After he hung up, the man looked at his large stack of belongings for a moment and sighed heavily. “Fuck,” he said, with feeling. Then he muttered, “All right, Winchester, you got it loaded by yourself. You can unload it by yourself. Think of all the money you’re saving on beer and pizza, right?”

And so Cas learned that the man’s name was Winchester. Which even a ghost named Castiel thought was a strange name for a man, but he supposed he could hardly judge.

As a ghost, there wasn’t a lot that Cas could do to help, but he did expend a little ectoplasm—or whatever it was exactly that was powering his existence—in making one or two of the heavier items levitate a bit. Winchester commented on it out loud once, but otherwise paid it no mind.

As Cas had feared, Winchester chose Cas’ old room for his own. However, having seen the new tenant’s face now, Cas didn’t mind so much. The man probably worked and would be gone a lot, anyway, so Cas would still be able to hang out alone in the room. And it wasn’t as though Cas was without other options for rooms to spend his time in.

When everything had been unloaded, it was nearly dark, Winchester went to the refrigerator and withdrew one of the beers he’d put in to chill earlier in the day. He dropped down onto the new couch and took a long swallow of his drink. When he went to set it down on the side table, though, he missed. It so happened that Cas was standing on that side and was able to keep the beer from toppling off. Winchester evidently had felt the bottle about to go because he seemed very surprised that it remained upright.

He shook his head as if to clear it, then chugged the remainder of the bottle, rendering the point moot, anyway, Cas supposed. Winchester kicked his feet up onto the coffee table and grabbed the back of the couch with each of his outstretched hands. He looked around, smiling.

“Finally got your own place, Winchester. You can walk around naked, drink beer as much as you want, and watch whatever the hell you feel like on the television,” he said out loud to himself, amusing Cas. “This is the good life, and you wanted some freedom and alone time, so stop feeling bummed now that you’ve got it.”

Winchester had only set up the living room in a habitable way. The other rooms were just a haphazard collection of furniture and boxes. Even in the bedroom, he had just thrown the mattress on the floor and left the disassembled frame and the box springs leaning against the wall.

“All right, now what did I do with the damn remote?” Winchester muttered, scanning the room.

Cas could see it from where he was, since lying on the floor in front of the coffee table. Winchester could not, however, so he got up and turned on the TV by hand. While his back was turned, Cas helpfully lifted the remote onto the table.

On his way back to the couch, Winchester paused briefly as he caught sight of the remote lying there where he was probably certain he’d already checked for it.

“Damn, you must be tired, boy. Maybe just one episode of Sweet Genius tonight, huh?” he said, picking up the offending remote and changing to the channel he wanted.

Cas had never seen the program, but he sat down on the couch and watched with Winchester, finding the bald man—evidently the star of the show—to be amusing and the creations to be delicious-sounding, even if he could no longer taste them himself.

Winchester periodically made snarky comments to the competitors that made Cas laugh out loud, even more than the show’s host did. It took Cas a while to realize what this emotion was he was feeling, but eventually, he figured it out—he was having fun. It had been a very long time since he had felt anything of the kind. He looked over at Winchester and smiled.

“I’m glad it was you who moved in, Winchester,” he said, though the man could not hear him.

“Well, maybe if you knew how to make a meringue worth a shit, you wouldn’t have to make up clever bullshit answers when Ron asks you a question, cupcake,” was the only response he got.

Still, it made him smile.


	2. If I walk down this hallway tonight, it's too quiet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas gets dirty and Dean takes a shower.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is, if you squint, the tiniest bit of plot furtherization in this chapter. It may be hard to find beneath the detritus of smut.

♫"Let him shoot me down; let him call me off."♪ - Kristen Hersh, Your Ghost

 

The next morning, Cas came downstairs when the phone rang unanswered, assuming Winchester had left the house for the day already.

The night before Cas had finally tired of watching Winchester sleep on the couch and had gone upstairs to his—now Winchester’s—room and laid down on the bed. Sometimes, when he was very still, he went into a sort of dream state. From this sort of half-awareness, he had heard people talking on rare occasions—perhaps it was other ghosts, he thought—but it had been some time, as best he could tell, since that had happened.

When he reached the ground floor, he heard the anachronistic sound of an outgoing answering machine message. He startled a bit when he realized that Winchester was still at home, sitting on the couch, drinking coffee. And, it seemed, screening his calls.

“Winchester! Why the hell didn’t you tell me Benny and Sammy bailed? I would have told work to shove it if I’d known you were moving all that shit by yourself. Call me back. Also, since you still haven’t gotten the memo, no one has used an answering machine in like a decade. Seriously, call me.”

Though the caller sounded female, through process of elimination, Cas deduced that she must be Charlie, the friend who had texted that she couldn’t make it. His conclusion was confirmed when Winchester spoke to the answering machine over his steaming mug.

“Well, Charlie, you shoulda done that anyway. Not gonna beg people to help me. Guess you forgot who helped you move all your shit, huh?” Winchester frowned and sipped his coffee. “I gotta stop talking to myself,” he said in a quieter tone.

Cas watched the other man finish his coffee in silence, staring out the window. He seemed to be lost in thought, but perhaps he was just trying to wake up. Cas had always had trouble with mornings, when he’d still be among the living. Perhaps Winchester was the same.

When the coffee was done, Cas’ new housemate went into the kitchen to make himself some breakfast. Cas enjoyed watching Winchester move around the kitchen. His movements were fluid and comfortable, as Cas’ own had never been. Winchester was a man comfortable in his own body. Cas no longer had a body, and literally flowed from one place to the other, but he still felt stilted in comparison to the man before him.

Winchester sang—off-key, but Cas didn’t really mind—as he cooked and sometimes did a little dance. It was pleasant to watch. Cas smiled all the way through the meal. As Winchester was washing up the dishes, the phone rang again. Once again, the machine was allowed to pick up the call.

“Hey, brother. Charlie chewed my ass out nine ways from Sunday about not showing up. Then I find out, nobody showed up. I’d have made Andrea wait instead of bailing on you, man. Gimme a holler.”

“Yeah, Benny. Like she doesn’t _already_ hate my guts and think we’re sleeping together,” Winchester muttered, helping Cas identify the caller.

Winchester stretched and yawned, exposing his stomach and hips as his shirt rode up. He really was beautiful to look at, Cas thought. If only they could have met when Cas was alive... Cas snorted. As if he would have ever approached a man like Winchester. He would have been too intimidated by the man’s good looks. He was forceful when he wanted to be, but around really attractive men he became an awkward mess.

Winchester went up the stairs, with Cas following closely behind. When they reached Cas’ bedroom, Winchester started arranging the furniture. He assembled the bed and arranged the chest of drawers and a small bookshelf Cas hadn’t noticed before. Then Winchester started unpacking boxes of books, clothes, and a few personal items.

He had just finished when the phone rang again. He made his way downstairs toward the machine, but stood in front of it, just listening for a minute.

“You are the only remaining person on the planet under eighty who has an answering machine,” the caller said, earning a chuckle from Cas. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me Benny and Charlie bailed! I _told_ you I could get out of the thing if I needed to, man. I mean what the hell, De—”

“Hey, Sammy. Look, it’s no big deal, all right? I didn’t find out about them until after I talked to you and I didn’t wanna go back on telling you it was cool.” Winchester stopped and listened for a moment. “No, it was fine. I mean, you know how much beer Benny can drink and how much pizza you and Charlie can put away. You saved me money, man. It’s not like I didn’t pack all the shit up by myself.”

Winchester paced, rolling his eyes. “No, Sam, I wasn’t trying to make you feel guilty. It’s really fine, okay? Yeah, I’m a little ticked at Charlie and maybe a little at Benny too, but we’re cool, you and me. I know you’re trying to get that promotion,” he said, expression and tone serious. Then he grinned suddenly. “I mean, how’m I gonna mooch off my rich little brother if he doesn’t get the job making the big bucks, right?”

There was another short silence and then Winchester’s face lit up and he gave a short, sharp laugh. “You think selling my machine saved me from a life of prostitution? For your information, male gigolos can make a _lot_ more than you think. Believe me, I know. I looked into it,” he said, clearly teasing.

Or, at least, Cas assumed he was.

“Yeah, yeah. All right. Yep. You too. Talk soon. Okay, bye.” Winchester snorted as he hung up the cordless phone again. “That’s my baby brother.”

Winchester went back to his unpacking, this time working in the bathrooms. It was a bit boring, so Cas drifted away to amuse himself. He went down to the living room—in which he was amused to realize he was doing the exact opposite—and floated near the television, wishing his new housemate had left it running to give Cas something to do. He hadn’t watched it much when he was alive, but now that he was dead it was easier than reading.

To Cas’ surprise, when he stopped in front of the TV and felt his desire to watch it surge, it came on by itself. He could apparently will things to happen without meaning to. He would have to watch out for that. Still, for now, he had something to do. He floated over to the couch and did the ghost version of sitting, which was basically putting his not-body into a sitting position in the air above the couch.

Only a minute or so after he had taken a seat, Winchester walked downstairs and into the room, looking wary and confused. He was making his way toward the remote and Cas knew the television he’d managed to turn on was about to be turned off if he didn’t do something.

In a flash, he was in the room in the back, knocking a couple of books onto the floor. He was back at the couch and looking at Winchester before he even reached the remote. He was looking toward the other room now and he swore before heading back up the way he’d come.

Cas smiled to himself and sat down to watch TV. The television was still on a food network and Cas left it there. He thought it might be pushing his luck to change channels, and really anything was better than floating around with nothing to do. The current show was about people competing to see who made the best cupcakes. Cas didn’t think it was as good as the other one he’d watched with Winchester, but he wasn’t sure if it was the content or the company.

It wasn’t long, thankfully, before Winchester made his way back to the living room. He grabbed the phone and started dialing, ordering a pizza when the line was picked up. Then he went into the kitchen and came back with a beer, settling down on the couch next to Cas.

“Who the hell puts bacon on a cupcake?” Winchester asked the screen as he tipped back his beer. He let out a contented noise after he swallowed.

On screen, the bacon-using team leader finished her explanation and then the camera moved on to the head of the next team. When the next contestant started talking about her cupcake, Winchester leaned forward, rapt.

In a reverent whisper, he said, “A pecan pie-inspired cupcake? Marry me, sweetheart.” He was licking his lips as they showed shots of the recipes components, as if he could almost taste them. Cas found the whole thing very amusing.

The next contestant onscreen was a particularly handsome man and Winchester leaned back on the couch, stretching his arm across the back. He bit his lip and made a noise that was hard for Cas to interpret, until Winchester spoke.

“You can marry me without the cupcakes, hot stuff. Although I bet I can think of some creative uses for icing,” he said, popping his eyebrows and taking a long swallow of his beer. His eyes tracked up and down the man on the television until it cut to a commercial.

Winchester finished his beer and Cas continued to watch him as he stretched his long, bowed legs out in front of him, spread slightly. Then he made a grunting noise as he got up, taking his empty bottle with him to the kitchen. When he returned, he was carrying a soda, a paper plate, and some napkins.

The commercials finished just as he sat down. After a few explanatory seconds, it was back to the competition. The bacon cupcake station had a lot of problems, which put them down to the wire finishing their cakes. They were first up to the judges station.

The french judge looked at the cupcake with a mild look of disappointment. “Is that bacon?”

“Yes, chef. It’s a walnut crunch cake, with a maple-infused cream center, topped with caramel icing,” the contestant explained.

“Mm, bacon is a bold choice, not because it is unusual, but for the opposite reason. You Americans have a recent obsession with putting bacon on everything.” He cut a piece off of his cupcake. “It pairs well with sweet things, but I don’t know if it’s needed here.”

The judges took bites of their cupcakes, two out of three making faces. Almost in unison, all three of them put their napkins up to their mouths and very obviously spit their bites into the napkins. It cut to a shot of the baker’s horrified and nervous face.

“It is....” the chef began, drinking water in the middle. “Cloyingly sweet. Also, if you are going to put bacon on a cupcake, it must be crisp and cooked to perfection. This bacon tastes almost raw, it is so soggy. You should have chosen caramel or maple—one or the other. Both is too much. The maple would have paired better with the bacon—if the bacon had been cooked properly.”

Throughout the speech, Cas watched Winchester’s face. He was smirking and murmuring vague “I told you so” statements at the screen. The show cut to a commercial again before the pecan pie cupcake’s turn for judging and Winchester sighed loudly. He started reaching for the remote, but there was a knock at the door.

“Pizza!” Winchester said excitedly.

He walked over and whipped open the door with a smile, giving Cas a chance to admire his form from the back. His jeans were well-worn and fit his body snugly without being too tight. His perfectly shaped ass was shown off to great effect. From this angle, the bow of his legs was even more noticeable. Cas, not for the first time, longed for a body. He wanted to touch Winchester quite badly, even though in his current condition, such a thing seemed like it should be irrelevant.

Before he knew it, Winchester was sitting back down on the couch, putting a large slice of pizza on his plate. He popped the top on his soda with one finger and washed down his first, far too large bite of pizza with it.

“This is a pecan pie inspired cupcake. The cake itself is butter cake, not very sweet. It has a rum custard and pecan filling, with a thin layer of vanilla frosting and candied pecans on top.”

This time the judges heaped glowing praise on the cupcake they ate. It wasn’t too sweet, according to the judges, it was perfectly balanced. Even though pecans were a mundane ingredient, they said she had elevated it to a new level. She beamed and the bacon contestant glared. Winchester seemed to drool, but Cas wasn’t sure if that was the pizza, the pecan pie cupcake, or a reaction to the looks of the male chef whose face kept being flashed on the screen.

The paper plate was tossed onto the coffee table during the next commercial break and then Winchester’s socked feet landed there alongside it. His soda he kept in his hand. He drank it through the commercials, then quickly set it aside when the show returned.

Cas wasn’t sure what the man onscreen had made. Something with bananas, he thought. He was too caught up in watching Winchester to pay much attention to the screen. Cas’ beautiful companion was obviously very attracted to the male chef’s dark hair, strong jaw, and athletic body. Cas thought the chef was handsome, but he found Winchester much more appealing.

Winchester’s hand started to move before Cas was quite sure what was happening. He was staring at the freckled face in front of him, but then he heard a zipper and looked down to find that Winchester had an erection and was stroking it through the fabric of his exposed underpants. Cas reflexively licked lips that didn’t exist anymore and watched in awe as Winchester removed his erection from its confines.

Cas could almost feel his non-existent heart thundering in his chest and he forced himself out of the room. As much as he wanted to stay—watch that glistening member get a rough handling from its owner—he knew it was probably wrong to be a voyeur. He lay floating above what was once the location of his bed and was now Winchester’s and he could, for the first time in a while, hear that strange crowd-like noise of voices for a moment.

Then he had a sudden thought: there were few perks of being a ghost. If getting to watch beautiful men pleasure themselves wasn’t one of them, what was?

He was back downstairs and next to Winchester in an instant, but the show was already over. He lay against the couch, covered in his own release, panting and staring up at the ceiling. Cas sighed to himself. It took a few minutes for Winchester to come back to himself. When he did, he looked down at his soiled clothes and the state of the coffee table and grimaced.

“What a surprise you’re not married, Winchester. You’re such a catch!” he said with false, sarcastic cheer as he stood up and made his way toward the stairs.

The male chef was back on the screen just then, discussing his latest round of cupcakes.

“Damn. You are pretty, though. Whaddya say, big guy? Round two in the shower?” Winchester glanced down at his crotch. “Whoa there, Sparky, I was mostly joking.” He looked back up at the television, where it showed a cut scene of the male chef, jogging through the park in a tight-fitting T-shirt. “Fuck. I see your point, Sparky.”

Winchester watched until they went back to commercial and then headed up the stairs. As soon as Cas heard the water running in the bathroom, he caused himself to appear in the small room, almost right next to a rapidly undressing Winchester. When he was fully undressed, Winchester stopped and checked himself out in the mirror, affording Cas the opportunity to do the same.

Winchester truly was a beautiful man. The heavy half-erection he was sporting certainly did nothing to take away from the picture he presented. He was lean and muscular, with those sexy bowed legs as covered in freckles as the rest of him. His stomach wasn’t composed of chiseled abs, but it was flat and Cas, despite his lack of corporeal form, wanted to lick the trail of hair that led down to the other man’s bobbing erection.

When Winchester made his way into the shower, Cas followed without hesitation. Watching as all that golden skin was covered in rivulets of water and then soap was so heady that he could almost feel a phantom ache between his legs. Then Winchester turned around, taking his erection in hand once more.

This time, Cas did not leave the room.

He watched, rapt, as Winchester palmed over his thick length, from base to tip. Large fingers wrapped underneath as a fat thumb worked over the top. Occasionally, a drop of pre-ejaculate could be distinguished from the soap and water, but mostly the erection before Cas was just wet and shiny as that hand worked over it at a feverish pace.

Because he’d already had one orgasm, Winchester lasted quite a while. Cas got to watch his fill, as a second hand came down to fondle the testicles that hung unevenly below. Cas drank in the way the other man’s skin flushed, as well as the glorious, aroused sounds he was making as his hands brought him pleasure. Those sounds were broken and needy, and Cas wished he had the physical form to reach out, lick that latest drop of fluid leaking from Winchester’s erection, take him into his own mouth and suck a thousand, even needier versions of those sounds from the man above him.

Instead, all he could do was float there, watching, listening, and wanting, until Winchester’s orgasm swept through him. He was wild with it, crying out and bucking hard into his own fist. When he released, it was an odd sensation for Cas. In a normal situation, his position meant he’d have gotten most of the shots on his face. Instead, they went through him, which was oddly erotic in its own way. He couldn’t _feel_ them, per se, but they did cause sensations of a sort. Whatever he was right now, he had some sense of being, and that whole being had been rearranged by the hot white droplets of Winchester's ejaculate.

Cas kind of liked it.

“You’re probably world’s most perverted ghost, Castiel,” he said to himself as Winchester left the shower to dry off. “Wouldn’t mother be proud?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am loving the responses to this so far. I hope you are all pleased by the latest installment. Schmoops for all! Please share your cupcake recipes in the comments below ;) ♥


	3. Our adolescent war

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean gets a visitor from among the living.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Plot, my children! PLOT! Well, a little, anyway.

From then on, Cas didn’t even try to stop himself when Winchester took a shower. He wanted to watch, so he did. It was that simple. He found other ways to amuse himself, as well, but that was a large highlight.

Eventually, though, watching was no longer enough. Even though he only had a form in the vaguest sense of the word, eventually, he felt compelled to _touch_. It wasn’t the same as touching with his bodily fingers would have been, though his form still maintained a shape—if not a solidity—almost identical to his human body. Still, it was satisfying in its own way, though it had happened quite by accident.

For whatever reason, Winchester had rarely left the house since he moved in. Sometimes he went to the grocery store, but other than that, he didn’t go out much. Time was still a bit strange for Cas, of course, but he thought Winchester had been living in his house for something like a couple of weeks. He had only left a few times and no one had come to visit.

One day, however, long after Winchester had distributed all the items from his boxes and rearranged all the furniture to his liking, there was a knock on the door. They had just sat down on the couch to watch Cupcake Wars and eat lunch when it happened. Winchester frowned, but set his sandwich on the coffee table and got up. After he looked through the peephole, he looked almost eager, however. He flung the door wide and dragged the man across the threshold in his excitement.

“Heya, Sammy! Damn, I didn’t know you were coming over. I’d have made us lunch.”

Cas was instantly jealous. This man was tall and handsome. He didn’t want a repeat reaction of what had happened with the chef on Cupcake Wars.

“Hey, Dean,” this Sammy person said.

Cas was hit by a memory of those phone calls the second day. This person was not a threat to him. This man was Winchester’s brother. Only then did Cas take in the name Sammy had called Winchester. Cas was confused.

“I started to call, but I thought, I don’t know. Surprise?” Sammy said, clearly nervous.

Winchester laughed. “Real convincing, Sam. You thought I didn’t want to see you.”

“Well, yeah. A little,” Sam admitted. He shrugged, slightly sheepish. “Since I couldn’t help you move and, you know, everything.”

“Sam, Sam, Sam. You are always welcome in my house, got it? Even if I’m mad at you, even if I tell you one day to get the hell out because I’m pissed at you, you come back the next day, all right?”

Sam’s smile was beatific. “Sure, Dean.”

“Hey, man, I’m serious. We’re the only Winchesters left. We gotta stick together, right?”

That explained the name to Cas at last. Winchester was actually Dean Winchester. The name Dean suited him in a way Winchester really hadn’t. Cas was standing right next to Dean when he figured out his real name and he couldn’t resist reaching out.

With a reverent, ghostly finger he traced a line across one golden-freckled cheek. “Dean....” he whispered.

***

Watching Dean with his brother all afternoon had been very enlightening, as well as entertaining. Cas had had a feeling that Dean was a good person, but seeing the way he treated his sibling made it obvious. There was clear pride and love in their every interaction, from both sides. However, Cas could tell that Dean was willing to make sacrifices—and perhaps had—in order to insure Sam’s happiness and well-being.

Cas knew he would have sacrificed for Gabriel, even though they hadn’t been close in later years. Briefly, Cas wondered if Gabriel _pushedIwaspushedIwas_ would have done the same thing for him, but he didn’t want to dwell on the subject too long. The Winchesters were much more interesting.

“Well, hey, can you stay for dinner?” Dean asked, gathering their latest empty soda cans to take to the kitchen.

Sam stretched and yawned. “Yeah, man, I miss your cooking.”

“What, Ruby not feeding you?” Dean teased.

Sam frowned, but Cas didn’t know why. The question had obviously been a joke.

“Dean,” Sam said, following Dean into the kitchen. His tone was one of censure.

Dean looked up at him in confusion from where he was bent over in front of the refrigerator. “What?” Then some sort of understanding passed across his face. “Dude, no, I was joking, all right? I swear.”

Sam sighed and nodded. “Okay. Um, sorry.”

Dean straightened and clapped him on the shoulder. “No worries, Sammy. I’m thinking TexMex, huh?”

Cas wondered what the story was behind that, but he supposed he was unlikely to find out. Not being able to ask questions was definitely _not_ one of the perks of being a ghost.

Sam groaned, “Yes! Man, I have been craving your enchiladas, not gonna lie.”

“Hehe, yeah, I get that a lot,” Dean said with a smile and a salacious wink.

“Dude, gross, you’re my brother!” Sam said, but he was laughing.

“My hotness overcomes taboos, Sam,” Dean said in a grave tone with a serious face.

Cas laughed out loud.

Sam shoved him playfully. “You’re stupidity knows no bounds is what you mean. Cook me my food, woman.”

Dean laughed, loud and surprised. “You try that line on Ruby lately? ‘Cause I’m pretty sure you’d be getting punched for it.”

Sam looked sheepish. “She actually said it to me the other day.”

Dean didn’t answer, choosing instead to roll his eyes and shake his head as he started gathering ingredients.

As always, Cas enjoyed watching Dean move about the kitchen. He moved with a surety that Cas had lacked in life. He diced vegetables and sauteed things in pans and almost before Cas knew it, there were two heaping plates of things wrapped in tortillas with rice and beans to either side. It looked so delicious that Cas wished very strongly that he still had taste buds.

Then he realized he’d never have met Dean, in all likelihood, if he’d still been alive and he couldn’t bring himself to be very sorry he’d passed on. Living, even if he and Dean had met somehow, Cas knew he would never have been able to get close to Dean the way he was now. Dean was beautiful, funny, smart, interesting, nice to his family, and a hundred other wonderful things Cas had not been in life. Well, he’d tried to be nice to his family _pushedmehepushedmeoutthewindowhepushed_ , but they had never made it easy.

Lost as he was in his thoughts for a while, Cas suddenly realized he had missed the beginnings of a conversation.

“—got the big bachelor pad, when are you gonna go out and find a nice girl?” Sam asked.

Dean gave him a glare, but Cas thought he also looked a bit surprised by the question.

“Sorry, girl or guy?” Sam amended.

Any warmth Cas had been starting to feel toward Sam evaporated in an instant. He wasn’t ready to lose Dean yet. He knew, rationally, that Dean would eventually find someone living to spend time with, but until then, Cas had thought he could spend some more time with him. Instead Sam had come in, interfering, trying to take Dean away from—

“Man, is it cold in here? I swear I can see my breath,” Sam said, hugging himself suddenly and shivering.

Dean snorted, distracting Cas from his wrath. “Dude, you’re like the damn princess and the pea. The frigging AC _just_ kicked on.” He picked up their plates and walked them to the sink. “Anyway, back to your original question, did you have a head injury I don’t know about?”

“Uh, no.”

“You sure? Because I can’t see what else would make you ask me such a stupid ass question. Haven’t we established that I don’t do the whole relationship thing?” He ran water over the dishes and left them to soak, grabbing a couple of beers out of the fridge. “When has that ever worked out for me, exactly?”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Oh, come off it, Dean. Ruby told me what you said. About why you moved out. You wanted your own place so you could find somebody. You don’t have to play macho commitmentphobe, okay?”

Cas could see the anger spring up in Dean and he could also tell that Dean was trying to hold it in check.

“Sam, I said no such thing and that is _definitely_ not why I moved out.” Dean took a long, chugging pull from his beer, finishing a significant amount in a single go.

“Really?” Sam said, clearly not believing his brother. “Then why did you move out? I mean, I know you got the money for the device, but it’s not like we were kicking you out.”

“Yeah, speak for yourself,” Dean muttered too low for Sam—but not Cas—to hear.

“What did you say?”

“Nothing, Sam, just leave it all right?” Dean said angrily, finishing his beer.

“No, Dean, I wanna know why you left! You’re claiming Ruby lied to me, so tell me what the truth is, if it’s not what she said!” Sam voice was rising as he himself rose from his seat, but he seemed to realize both at the same time and sat back down. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to yell, but come on, man, level with me.”

“No.” Dean’s expression defied Sam to push him on it.

“No? Why the fuck not? Because seriously, either Ruby lied or you did. And since you aren’t forthcoming with a backup story, I’m inclined to believe it’s you. And I’ve got no idea why that would be, Dean.” He chugged his own beer suddenly.

Cas wondered how Sam could be so dense. Surely he knew Dean better than that.

Dean sighed, looking burdened. His voice was quiet as he said, “Sam, I’m not going to get into a he said-she said situation with you and Ruby. You’ll end up having to choose between us and I don’t want to be the one left behind _or_ the one you end up resenting later because you decide you chose wrong. Just. Leave it. Please.” He grabbed another beer. “Besides, I already told you why I left.”

“Yeah, yeah, you wanted some space.” Sam picked up his beer, but paused with it halfway to his mouth. “Did you—was it because of the other fight we had? About me marrying Ruby?”

Dean groaned and Cas could see Sam was pushing him past his limits of self control. “You’re just not gonna let it go, are you? You just gotta keep on about it.”

“I deserve to know, Dean. If you’re mad that I plan to marry her, you owe me the truth.”

“I owe you? You deserve?” Dean gave a brittle laugh. “Sam, I moved out. Doesn’t even require an explanation. We’re grown ass adults. We don’t need to live together. End of story.” He drank more beer. “Why are you so hung up on this? You’ve got a girlfriend or fiancee or whatever to keep you company, so why do you care?”

“I’m worried about you, you asshat!” Sam burst out, almost yelling. “Yeah, I know you haven’t had a lot of luck with relationships, but you never had a lot of luck living on your own, either! And if I thought you were doing it to find someone, then I thought that meant you were good, but now you’re telling me that’s not the case, so I’m fucking worried, all right? So tell me why you left!”

“She told me to leave!” Dean shouted suddenly, then immediately cringed. “Shit,” he said in an angry whisper.

Sam’s face lost all expression. “What the fuck are you talking about?” his voice was cold and flat too, and Cas was worried about the brothers’ relationship for the first time during the whole exchange.

Dean let out a defeated sigh and sat down, taking a long swallow of beer. “After I got the check, Ruby came to me one afternoon and said she was tired of me being underfoot all the time. She said she knew you wouldn’t marry her until I was out of the way and now that I had money, I could stop mooching off you and get my own place and stop holding you back.”

Sam looked stricken. To his credit, it seemed he had stopped questioning Dean’s honesty. However, if he had planned to marry this Ruby girl, this must be quite a blow and Cas envied neither of the brothers just then.

“I—you swear you’re not just making this up because you don’t like her?” Sam asked, but his voice was so weak it was obvious he was grasping desperately at straws.

“I wish I was, even though you know damn well I wouldn’t do that, Sammy,” Dean said.

Sam nodded, staring at the floor.

“Look, man, I can’t really blame her. I _was_ in the way. I _am_ a pain in the ass to live with—”

“Stop,” Sam said, and there was more power in his voice now.

“Sam, you know I’m right. And you probably would have waited to ask her—”

“No. I would’ve asked her already, but you told me you were leaving, so I put it off.” Sam laughed, but it was a sad thing. “I was going to ask her tomorrow.”

“Was? Come on, Sam, this doesn’t really change anything. You can still—”

“Dean, you’re my brother. And she kicked you out of my house and went behind my back to do it.” Sam shook his head. “Doesn’t matter whether she thought you were a pain in the ass or in the way. She should’ve talked to me about it, told me how she felt.”

“So what are you going to do?” Dean asked carefully, obviously wary that his brother would be angry with him after all.

“I don’t know. Have a conversation with her, for sure. After that, we’ll just have to see, I guess.”

“I’m sorry, man. I get it if you don’t wanna talk to me for a while,” Dean said.

“What? No. This is not on you, Dean.” He smiled faintly, and in that moment Cas was pretty sure Sam was going to fine, no matter what happened with Ruby. “You tried to get me to leave it alone.”

“Yeah. You’re kind of a dumbass, though,” Dean said.

Sam snorted. “Well, they say you learn a lot from your older siblings.”

“Yeah? Shame you never picked up how to be awesome then,” Dean retorted.

Sam’s smile was genuine. “You got me there, Dean.” He stood up and clapped his brother on the shoulder. “We’re okay, Dean. Don’t worry, all right?”

Dean nodded.

“I better get back. Need to have some time to think before Ruby gets home. See you next week, maybe?”

“Sounds good, man. Maybe poker night?” Dean suggested.

“Hell yeah!” Sam said, enthusiastic. “Haven’t had that in ages.” He started heading for the other room, then turned back. “You’re really okay, though? I mean, living here? ‘Cause you can come back....”

“Nah, man, I like it here. I feel... I don’t know. This house just really feels comfortable, you know? Welcoming. It’s not lonely here like in all my apartments.”

“Wow, okay. So maybe there’s hope for you getting a girlfriend or boyfriend after all, huh?” Sam asked with a grin. Then he shivered. “It may be welcoming, but it’s cold as fuck, man.”

Dean laughed. “You’re crazy man, it’s not cold in here.”

They said their goodbyes at the door and then Dean plopped down on the couch with a groan. Cas, realizing Dean had forgotten his beer, retrieved it from the other room and placed it on the coffee table. Dean tensed and looked over his shoulder at the kitchen.

“Shit, I forgot my—” His gaze caught on the coffee table and the beer sweating condensation onto it. “Huh. Guess I didn’t forget after all.”

Cas just smiled and settled down to watch TV once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your comments are lovely little things. Other commenters comment on how great you commenters are. I'm not even lying, even though that sentence was super awkward. You're the best. ♥


	4. I really liked his spirit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean engages in some nostalgia; Cas engages in some dub-con touching; Benny engages in not taking a hint.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I AM THE WORST. I never intended to be six days between chapters. UGH. The. Worst.   
> HOWEVER. I do have an excuse, as I have had edits and proof reading on the actual book!! It's called Not Just Passing Through and it comes out this spring! Follow [my author tumblr](http://jamiedeanwrites.tumblr.com/) for updates.

♫"And I really liked his spirit!"♪ - Concrete Blonde, Ghost of a Texas Ladies' Man

Dean had talked to himself the whole time since he’d moved into the house, but after Sam’s visit, it became even more frequent. Though he gave it a valiant effort, Cas was eventually unable to resist finding a way to communicate back.

The night after Sam left, Dean turned the stereo on, as he’d done any number of times before. As usual, he put the changer on random and turned it down low enough that he could do other things while it played, but still hear it.

His musical taste was mostly classic rock, punk and metal, but like many other fans of the genre, he also liked some of the old school country songs by Johnny Cash, Marty Robbins, and a few other things like some oldies compilations and a couple of mix CDs. Cas had made it a point, during one of Dean’s rare absences, to learn how not only to work the CD player but also how to scan its data banks for all the album information. Dean’s taste wasn’t exactly his own, but they did share some favorites and Cas wanted to be able to find them easily when he had a moment to control the stereo.

Once the music was playing, Dean cleared the coffee table and went upstairs. Cas didn’t follow, assuming correctly that he planned to return to the living room soon. When Dean returned, he was carrying a couple of smaller boxes, labeled “Keepsakes and Mementos.” Cas was looking forward to seeing what sort of things Dean thought were worth keeping.

Dean put one of the boxes on the coffee table and opened it up. He’d had been sorting quietly for a few minutes when he sat back suddenly, looking a little forlorn. He sighed heavily, holding a collection of small items and a couple of letters.

“Cassie,” he said. “Man, if I’d only known how much you were gonna hurt me, I never would have bought you this damn bear.”

Dean started reading one of the letters and Cas peered over his shoulder. From the first line, it was obvious it was a “Dear John” type of letter, written by this Cassie person. The more he read, the less he liked this Cassie and her hurtful words and cruel accusations. Without conscious thought, he became annoyed with the tone of the song that was just finishing and found a more appropriate tune, raising the volume just slightly.

When the strains of Marty Robbins “Devil Woman” started coming through the speakers, Dean looked up and tilted his head to the side. A small smile broke across his face and he tossed the bundle of items in the trash can he kept near the end table.

“Amen to appropriate music,” he said, digging deeper into the box. “And good riddance to bad rubbish. All right, what’s next?”

Cas continued to watch as Dean pulled item after item from the box. A lot he discarded—most of it letters and souvenirs from various lovers—but he kept a significant amount too. The things he kept included pictures his brother had drawn for him and photographs of him with his mother, as well as a few awards he had won in school, and one small, well-worn stuffed penguin that Dean drew reverently from the box.

If Cas had real knees, he might have fallen to them at that moment. Though it was a long-repressed memory, he knew that penguin, or one very like it. Given the way things had happened since the fall _pushediwaspushediwas_ had killed him, he wasn’t sure he believed in coincidence.

“Man, I never even got your name,” Dean said as he petted the stuffed animal softly. “Guy wins you a penguin, least you should do is tell him your name and keep the damn penguin, even if you are both six.”

That confirmed it. When Cas was little, his parents had for some reason broken with their uptight tradition and actually taken their children to something as pedestrian as the local fair that came to town every year. He’d somehow made quick friends with a little green-eyed boy, who, unlike Cas himself, had a pocketful of tickets to play games with. They’d ridden the carousel first. Then the boy had won him a stuffed penguin, but before Cas could take it or even thank him, his mother had come up and berated him for wandering off, dragging him away before he could say anything more than goodbye.

Cas had watched the boy chasing after them with the penguin, only to see his would-be friend get waylaid by his own adult—presumably his father—and then Cas had lost sight of him.

“It was you,” Cas said softly. “I can’t believe it was you.”

Cas quickly scanned for the oldies CDs to see if he could find the song he needed. In frustration, he realized that “On a Carousel” was not among the tracks. However, he did find “Palisades Park” and “Carnival Time,” so he decided he would play those instead, back to back.

Dean sort of smiled when the first song played, still gently stroking the penguin before putting it in his keep pile. When the second one started up, however, he frowned.

“Uh, okay, eerie CD player is eerie.”

Cas smirked and quickly found the next song. Thankfully, the oldies were very short, so it wasn’t more than a minute or so before “Ghost of a Texas Ladies’ Man” came on.

Dean smiled and shook his head. Cas decided to stop while he was ahead.

***

The next morning, Dean took another shower and Cas followed him. He watched as Dean undressed, drinking in the beauty of him the way he used to drink coffee of a morning, and with the same basic effect—he felt more alive, more human, and like he was coursing through with energy. He glided into the shower stall behind Dean

He had already lost all guilt over watching Dean, but this time, Cas found himself longing for more than that. He had no body, no ability to feel any real sensations other than the vaguest hints of displacement when he moved. He couldn’t smell or taste. All he could do was see and hear. Still, his vision and the sensation of movement gave him the illusion of being able to touch.

So this time, he did. When Dean had lathered up and stepped back under the spray face first, slick and wet with water and soap, his pink skin making his freckles stand out more, Cas reached out and swept a ghostly hand across the top of his shoulder. As the world failed to end and Dean seemed to take no notice of the event, Cas did it again.

He couldn’t really _feel_ it, but he could see himself doing it. He could see his own hands, even if Dean could not. And it tricked his ghostly brain into believing he was feeling _something_ , much the same way that gliding across the room gave him the illusion that he could feel air moving against him.

Just for a moment, he heard that flurry of voices again, but he was too focused on Dean to pay much attention. This time, he swept his hand down one side of Dean’s back, over his hipbone, and then drew back again.

Dean turned around to rinse his hair and Cas reached out once more, stroking a single, reverent finger down one of Dean’s freckle-stained cheeks. If he’d had a body, he had no doubt his finger would have been shaking as he drifted it across those plump, shiny lips. Dean’s tongue darted out just then, startling him.

When Dean began pleasuring himself this time, all Cas’s discarded guilt rushed back. It felt wrong to touch Dean—even if the touches weren’t real—when he was in such an intimate, private moment. Cas blinked himself out, to one of the mostly unused rooms.

He avoided Dean for a little while, trying to get his emotions under control. Their time in the shower had had a profound impact on him and he needed some time to himself.

Eventually, however, the pull of Dean was too strong, and Cas made his way back to where Dean was just cleaning up his breakfast dishes. He was standing in front of the sink and the the window behind it was mostly shaded by a tree, but a few stray patches of sunlight poked through. One of them was dancing on Dean’s cheek and once more Cas found himself powerless to resist.

He brushed his finger across the bright spot, ignoring how his own hand seemed to disappear in the light. Then he noticed a tiny dollop of suds had made its way to Dean’s nose and he carefully brushed it away. Tiny bubbles floated in the air and Dean noticed, smiling.

“My bubbles,” he said, in what sounded like a French accent. Then he shook his head, rolling his eyes at the same time. “You’re quoting kids’ movies to yourself, Winchester. Get a damn grip.”

Cas didn’t know what Dean was talking about, but he smiled, anyway. Dean had that effect.

For the rest of the day, Cas snuck in more and more touches. The more he did it, the bolder he got and the more frequently he would touch before backing away again. When Dean settled on the couch for the afternoon to watch some television, Cas kept it up for an entire episode of Cupcake Wars.

As he reverently petted Dean’s face, Cas whispered, “You are so beautiful. Do you have any idea? If I were alive, I’d tell you every single day. I don’t think I’d be able to stop touching you, if I had hands. I know I wouldn’t stop staring.” He ran his fingertip across Dean’s eyelashes, wishing with all his heart that he could feel them brush past his skin. “I no longer breathe and you still steal my breath, Dean Winchester. I wish I could have known you in life.”

That night, the moonlight streamed through the window and painted Dean’s face in shimmering blue light. With his eyes closed and his freckles washed away in the shadows, Cas thought Dean looked like a painting more than a real person. Once more, he gave in to the urge to touch.

He ran a ghostly finger from the middle of Dean’s forehead to the bottom of his chin, laughing in surprise when Dean’s face twitched slightly. It was likely just coincidence, but he stopped touching for a moment, anyway. Dean’s breath was rhythmic and even, so Cas reached out again.

When he placed his palm against Dean’s cheek this time, he felt a sort of... _tingle_ that he hadn’t felt before. And unlike all the previous times, there was no mistaking the way Dean turned into the touch that wasn’t really a touch. The sleeping man rubbed his face into Cas’s not-palm and nuzzled it contentedly. Cas watched in awe as all of this occurred, too shocked at Dean’s reactions to even wonder at that tingling sensation he was feeling.

He tried a few more light touches, marveling each time as Dean’s face twitched or otherwise responded to the brush of his not-fingers. Then, following an impulse he wasn’t sure was wise, when Dean turned onto his side, Cas curled up behind Dean and wrapped an arm around him, becoming the big spoon. To Cas’s utter shock, Dean wriggled backward toward him, making a soft “Mm” of contentment.

Cas lay there for a long time, without going into the strange fugue state that normally passed for sleeping with him. Now that he was no longer watching Dean react to him, his awareness of that tingling became stronger and stronger. Even though he could barely see himself with Dean blocking the moonlight, Cas could feel every place that their bodies connected. He didn’t understand, but he didn’t care.

Maybe being a ghost had more than one perk after all.

***

Touching Dean quickly became an addictive experience. Though Cas found he could only feel those tingles during the times when Dean was asleep, they were no less potent for it.

Eventually, though Cas was not quite sure if it was a few weeks or a few days, Cas was so addicted to the act of tracing Dean’s skin with ghostly fingers that he found himself unwilling to leave the shower stall when Dean was once again pleasuring himself. Some part of him thought maybe he should, but the larger part of him said this was a ghostly perk and he should be grateful for the opportunity.

Surely if neither of them could actually feel it, it was fine, right? Cas didn’t allow himself to think about whether those touches they both _could_ feel were inappropriate or not. Those were almost sacred to him and they made Dean smile, so how could they be bad? Anything that made Dean smile was good, as far as Cas was concerned.

So when Dean slipped into the shower and Cas followed, he barely waited before reaching out and tracing all the contours of Dean’s back that he could see. Then Dean turned around to wash his hair, erection prominent before him, and Cas hesitantly reached out a hand toward it.

Before he made contact, Dean’s own hand dropped down and lathered it absently before reaching back up to finish with his hair. Cas was bolder this time and grasped it as if he had real fingers. To his shock, Dean’s eye flew open and his hand dropped down again, stroking himself in earnest this time.

It wasn’t until their hands had been moving in tandem for several long moments that Cas finally realized he was feeling the tingling sensations again. And if he could feel _Dean_... did that mean Dean could feel him?

He wanted—needed, he thought, maybe—to test the theory. He raised his other hand and lightly tweaked a dusky nipple. Dean gasped slightly, but Cas couldn’t tell for certain if the two were related. He did it again and Dean made another little sound, one hand rubbing over the nipple Cas had tweaked.

“Oh, shit,” Cas whispered.

“Oh, fuck yeah,” Dean groaned, hand moving faster on his erection.

Cas passed a hand through Dean’s and across his hard length and then his testicles.

“Oh, fuck, fuck, yeah,” Dean breathed, eyes closing again and head lolling back. He turned back around so that his front was under the spray.

Cas came forward and pressed himself flush up against Dean, wrapping his arms around him and pressing tingling kisses to his shoulders. He still wasn’t certain if Dean could feel any of this, or if it was just coincidence and wishful thinking on Cas’s part, but he was going to enjoy the illusion, anyway. He put his mouth up behind Dean’s ear.

“Come for me, Dean,” he whispered, stroking his arms up and down Dean’s chest as he spoke.

With a guttural cry, Dean did, stroking himself through the waves with soft exhalations. When it was over, he leaned back against the tile wall beside him, and panted, eyes closed. Then he made an exhausted little whining noise before pushing himself back under the spray. Cas watched, rapt, as Dean finished his hygiene ritual and then turned off the taps.

“Fuck,” Dean said to himself as he dried off. “Woo!” he exclaimed, chuckling. Then he stepped in front of the mirror and looked at his reflection. “Was it good for you, baby?” He winked at himself. “Because it was good for me.”

He was whistling as he left the bathroom.

Cas, though he had no body to speak of, could have sworn he felt himself shaking.

***

Cas tried to restrict himself to non-sexual touches from then on, and that worked for a while. He stayed away when Dean showered and that helped. Every night, though, he would curl up next to Dean and revel in the response he would get from his sleeping companion.

Sometimes Cas would talk to him, though he knew Dean couldn’t hear. He would tell him things about his life, though he avoided the topic of his death _pushedhepushedmehe_ since those details were hazy at best in his mind.

“I wish I’d known you when I was alive, Dean,” Cas said one night as Dean slept. He’d said it before, but it only became more true. “I like to think we’d have been friends, but I wasn’t really very good at making those. Somehow, though, I think you’d have been the exception. You’re a good man, Dean Winchester.”

He said that last bit often too. Every single day, he saw something new that made him believe it even more strongly. Dean was possibly the best person he’d ever known. Not that the bar was high, but even if it had been, he knew Dean would have topped the list.

Eventually, Cas got to see both Charlie and Benny. He found Charlie fun, but a little grating. She could be kind of harsh with Dean, which Cas naturally didn’t like. She was very smart, however, and obviously cared about Dean, even if she was bad at showing it.

And then there was Benny.

Cas understood right away just why it was that Benny’s wife—or maybe girlfriend? he wasn’t quite sure—was jealous of Dean and thought there was something between them. Though Dean acted oblivious to it—and also did not seem to reciprocate it—Benny clearly had feelings for Dean that went beyond friendship. Cas couldn’t say for certain whether it was strictly sexual or whether there were emotions involved, but his gaze definitely lingered on Dean a little too long, a little too often.

Cas might have felt bad for Benny, if Benny had not been with someone else and Cas had not been in pretty much the same boat himself. His own lingering looks at Dean were certainly one-sided. Still, he wondered if Sam and Charlie couldn’t see it or if they chose not to. The best he could tell, Dean was unaware of it, but it might be that he was just used to ignoring it.

“So, brother, how you liking the new place so far?” Benny asked as he and Dean settled on the couch with a couple of beers and bowls of chips and salsa.

“Man, I freakin’ love it! This is a great place. It’s so... shit, I don’t know. It feels like home, I guess.”

“That’s good, Dean. That’s real good. Seems like a nice enough place.” He took a long pull off his beer. “So, uh, what the hell happened with Sam and Ruby?”

Dean glanced at Benny and then lifted his beer to his lips. Cas could tell he was avoiding the question. Then he swallowed and sighed, setting the beer back down on the coffee table. He ran a hand through his hair and then sat forward, leaning on his knees.

“Well, she kicked me out. I didn’t tell Sam because I didn’t wanna come between ‘em, but he got it out of me and... Well, he was pissed, obviously.”

“Damn, what a mess. Wasn’t he gonna propose?” Benny asked.

Dean grimaced and blew out a sighed. “Yep. Now I don’t know what’s gonna happen. She’s at her sister’s or somewhere—I didn’t even know she had a sister—and he’s not mad at me, but I still feel responsible.”

Benny leaned close and put a hand on Dean’s back. “Brother, it wasn’t your fault,” he said softly.

In that moment, Cas knew Benny had feelings for Dean. He felt sadness and also kinship with the man. Still, if he had to choose between himself and Benny for who had it worse, he knew he won. Benny was touching him with actual skin right now. Benny could smell Dean and feel the heat from him and, if he were brave enough to try, taste him. Cas could do none of those things.

A strange look crossed Dean’s face and he carefully stood up and away from Benny’s hand. He was smiling, but it looked a little uncomfortable.

“I’m gonna get another beer. You want?” he asked, hurriedly heading into the kitchen.

“Hey, if you’re buying, I’m drinking,” Benny said with a grin.

When Dean came back, he sat a little further away from Benny, but he was more relaxed.

***

One thing Cas hadn’t missed as a ghost was pain. He hadn’t experienced any the entire time he’d been dead—which only made sense, since he had no physical body—and he hadn’t even realized it. The only reason it occurred to him now was that he seemed to have a headache.

He didn’t understand it, but there was no denying the pain that was thrumming behind his eye. Then he realized that, during the night, he and Dean had somehow managed to wind up lying on their backs in the same spot on the bed.

He was feeling Dean’s headache.

Cas moved away quickly, severing the connection. Knowing Dean was going to wake up feeling terrible, he concentrated very hard on moving a bottle of water and a bottle of aspirin to the side table. He thought it was the least he could do. Even though it was hardly his fault that Dean had drunk too much, Cas felt as though he should have been able to stop him somehow.

“Nnnrrrrggg!” Dean groaned from a few feet away on the bed as he started to wake up. “Fuuuuck.”

One green eye opened, bloodshot and bleary. Its gaze finally landed on the aspirin and water and the brow above it moved up in surprise, then down in confusion.

“Well... thanks, past me, I guess,” Dean murmured with a half smirk as he lifted up and grabbed for the bottles.

He popped two pills into his mouth and then finished the full bottle of the water before collapsing back onto the bed. Just when his breathing started to slow again, he reached out a hand and waved it in the air toward him.

Cas was uncertain, but he felt beckoned by the gesture, so he moved forward and lay down next to Dean, curling up around one side of him. The posture would have been protective, if Cas had been more substantial than the wind.

Dean smiled, almost certainly asleep now, and mumbled, “Thanks.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, things got a little steamy this time, huh? Teensiest bit more plot too. How are you, darlings? ♥♥♥
> 
> Follow [Jamie Dean](http://jamiedeanwrites.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr for updates on my book.


	5. i'd walk into the fingers of your fire willingly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas just can't seem to stop touching. If anything, Dean seems just as in need of it as Cas is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, says here you ordered a large order of ghost smut with a side order of feels? Your total comes to one comment, please. Pay below.

Cas still wasn’t entirely sure how it was that Dean was around all the time. He clearly had money enough for groceries and utilities, but he didn’t leave the house for a job and Cas hadn’t seen Dean engaged in any other activities at home that seemed to have the potential for earning money. Perhaps he was independently wealthy, but this seemed a strange home for a rich man.

Then again, perhaps he was still rich because he was frugal with his money.

Cas really didn’t care one way or the other—and wouldn’t have even if he’d been alive to date Dean and benefit somehow from his potential wealth—but being curious was his nature and mulling over these little riddles gave him something to do when Dean was too still to be entertaining.

Not that Cas ever truly tired of watching the man with whom he now shared a home. Dean Winchester remained just as beautiful to Cas as the day he’d first seen him. In fact, Cas was almost certain he was nearly twice as beautiful by now. It really was unfair.

However, these days, watching led to the desire to touch. And while touching was still heady, the more Cas did it, the less satisfying it was. Instead of slaking his thirst, it only made it grow. He longed for hands to feel and lips to kiss and a nose to smell all that perfect skin.

Plus, now that he’d discovered that they could connect so strongly if they were in the same space, Cas was trying to avoid giving in to that particular temptation. Showers with Dean were particularly difficult in that respect, with the idea that he might be able to share in the feeling of Dean’s orgasm.

He suspected it would not be long before he let that desire sweep away all his reasons against stepping forward as Dean pleasured himself. He was both terrified and anxious for that day.

As it happened, Dean broke with routine and took an evening shower, the way he only did when one of his friends had called and he was going out. Cas followed him, assuming Dean might be leaving for the evening, but he didn’t lay out clothes beforehand, the way he normally did.

It was soon apparent that this shower was not about hygiene. This shower was about relief. Immediately as he got undressed, Cas could see that Dean was half-hard. Cas made a note to peruse the book Dean had been reading all afternoon.

As soon as Dean stepped under the spray, he took himself in hand. He was glorious and Cas ran phantom hands across his shoulders, down his spine, wishing desperately for sensation that was more than a tingle. Then Dean started to make the noises that told Cas he was getting close to orgasm, and Cas ignored all his higher instincts.

He slid forward, into the spot currently occupied by Dean’s body.

He was suddenly, overwhelmingly, lost in more sensations than he knew what to do with. Two hands working him over, shaft and balls. Hot water stinging and massaging his skin. That warm, wonderful tightening in the lower belly, signifying the end was near.

Cas let himself feel it all. When Dean cried out, Cas cried out with him, sharing the pleasure. When it was over, he pulled back, just enough that he would have been standing flush against Dean’s back, if Cas had a body to stand with.

Dean was panting. “Fuck,” he said, and there was an edge to it that Cas didn’t understand. “I’m going fucking crazy,” Dean whispered before ducking his head under the water.

Cas drifted, afraid of what that meant.

***

For a little while, Cas floated in Gabriel’s old room, in his version of sleep. He didn’t know how long it was, but he had only seen the light change maybe once or twice, so he assumed it wasn’t more than a couple of days at most.

When he made his way downstairs, Dean was standing in the kitchen, making a sandwich and looking unhappy. Or at least _not_ happy. Cas couldn’t tell if he was actually upset. Either way, Cas was overwhelmed with a wave of longing, realizing how much he’d missed Dean in just the short time they’d been apart.

Before he could analyze what he was doing, Cas rushed forward and through Dean, wanting to be enveloped in his presence for just that one moment. His whole being—whatever it was made of—tingled strongly. When he pulled away and could see Dean’s face again, Cas could see that he was smiling slightly.

It could only be coincidence, but Cas whispered, “I wish that smile was for me, Dean. I wish I could see it every day and taste it every night.”

Dean started whistling as he finished up his lunch and Cas followed him back to the living room and they sat on the couch. Cas watched Dean instead of the television, until Dean finished his sandwich. Dean set his saucer aside and stretched out on the couch, sliding his socked feet right where Cas’s crotch would be if he had one at the moment.

Cas immediately started to run his almost-hands over Dean’s feet. Cas moved up to Dean’s ankles after a moment, then his calves, and so on, until Cas was hovering full length above Dean and had touched him from toe to shoulder. He wanted to lower himself down onto the couch, merge with Dean once more, but he knew it was not only wrong, it was dangerous to his own peace of mind.

Those shared sensations, even though this would not be nearly as intense as the shower, were too addictive. He couldn’t risk it. He couldn’t afford to get attached to Dean, not really. Cas was no longer alive. Eventually, Dean would find someone who was still breathing and want to share his life with them. Cas should want that for him.

Cas _did_ want that for him.

Eventually.

In the future.

Probably.

Regardless, Cas resisted his urges and just floated there above Dean, only reaching out to stroke the freckles on Dean’s face, brush a thumb across his lips.

“You’re so divinely beautiful,” Cas told him. “I haven’t seen God in this afterlife, but I have to assume He exists, based solely the evidence of your face. How could anything so perfect have been an accident?”

There was a small smile playing around Dean’s mouth again, presumably because of something on television. Cas leaned down and kissed it. The smile broadened, so Cas kissed it again. Dean shifted his position slightly, rolling forward just far enough that Cas could, if he wanted, slip behind Dean’s back on the couch and spoon him.

Cas did want.

Dean made a sort of hum noise, not unlike he one he’d made the very first time they’d done this, in the bed. He’d been half asleep then, though. Surely he couldn’t feel Cas right now? Not when he wasn’t in a vulnerable state like half-sleep or strong arousal?

Cas shook off his ridiculous thoughts. Obviously, Dean was just more comfortable in the new position. Cas was letting his imagination get away from him. Projecting his own pleasure onto Dean. He snuggled in close—but not too close—and tried to concentrate on the TV instead of wishing he could smell Dean’s neck.

When Sam called and interrupted them, Cas knew it was probably for the best, but he still entertained uncharitable thoughts toward Dean’s younger brother for several minutes as Dean paced around the room with the phone.

However, Cas soon gleaned that Sam and Ruby had parted ways for good and that Sam was considering moving out of his apartment when the lease was up.

“Well, you’ve always got a room here, if you want it or need it. You know that.” Dean scoffed at whatever Sam said and replied, “Dude, it is _not_ drafty! You’re just a little old lady who can’t handle air conditioning. This house is perfect. Welcoming, even.” Dean paused, frowning slightly as he listened. “What do you mean what do I mean by that? Some houses are just... you know what? I don’t have explain myself to you, you’re the long-haired hippy here, not me.”

Dean’s grin was infectious and Cas found himself laughing along, even if he didn’t quite get the joke.

***

Dean was starting to make a habit of lying back on the couch for a while and then rolling forward onto his side with room behind him. It became easier for Cas to pretend they were actually a couple, even though he was more aware than ever that they were not. He longed to ask Dean questions about his life, or to tell Dean things about his own life, but he stayed silent.

While it was theoretically possible for him to communicate with Dean, the last thing he wanted was to scare the man and ruin what they had for the short time they were allowed to have it.

Cas began to look forward to those moments on the couch all day long. He virtually stopped touching or following Dean much of the rest of the day—except for showers and bedtime of course—because he was so fulfilled by those quiet times lying down together.

One night when he was on top of Dean, he felt a strange tingle where his lower back would be. He saw Dean moving his hand back and forth lightly, almost as if he had a cramp. Cas shrugged it off and resumed his petting of Dean’s face.

Once Dean rolled onto his side—at which time Cas accidentally slipped into the same space for a moment and felt Dean’s state of low level arousal—Cas spooned him as usual. A few minutes into the cuddle, Cas once again noticed Dean holding his hand out, this time away from his own body, just an inch or so in front of his stomach. He was curling and uncurling his fingers and moving the hand up and down.

Cas thought it was very strange. He wondered if maybe Dean had injured himself earlier in the day. Cas had thought Dean was all done with unpacking now, but since he was no longer following Dean around the house, it was much harder to keep track of his movements. Unless the shower was running or it was dark outside. Then it was relatively easy to know where he was going when he left the couch.

After a few moments, Dean made a frustrated-sounding noise and sat up, frowning. He rubbed a hand down his face and sighed, looking as unhappy as Cas had ever seen him. He abruptly stood up and stomped up the stairs. Cas decided to follow.

To Cas’ surprise, Dean was stripping as he walked down the hallway toward the bathroom. He didn’t even bother to close the door before he turned on the shower and started getting it warm. Once the water was running, he turned and Cas could see that he had a full erection, hanging proud and heavy beneath that glorious thatch of pale blond curly hair.

Dean closed the door and leaned against it for a moment, eyes closed. Then he sighed again and moved into the shower. There was no pretense of it being for hygiene at all. He immediately started stroking himself, before he even added some body wash to enhance the experience.

Cas got another surprise when he reached out and brushed his ghostly fingers over freckles—and Dean started talking.

“Fuck, yeah, touch me, baby, touch me, please, need you, fuck, need you bad,” Dean whispered as he stroked himself, head tilted back and eyes closed. He ran his hand over his own chest, neck, hips and belly, before finally sliding it around to grip one cheek of his ass.

Evidently not satisfied with that, Dean lightly scratched his nails across his skin from chest to belly, continuing the litany of instructions and pleas for touch. All the while, Cas was touching Dean too—anywhere and everywhere, wanting so badly to give Dean what he needed.

“Kiss me, baby,” Dean keened brokenly. “Just, fuck, wanna feel your mouth.”

Dean left his lips parted and lifted two fingers to his bottom lip, rubbing it softly as his other hand continued to stroke and tease. Cas hesitated until he heard a soft “Please” exhaled on Dean’s breath. Then he leaned forward and kissed him. He didn’t try to keep the kiss chaste. He immediately swept his invisible, imperfect tongue inside Dean’s mouth, wishing with everything he had that he could taste Dean, for only a second.

It wasn’t to be, but he could feel that strange tingling and he knew if he’d had skin and a penis, one would have been on fire and the other throbbing. He heard a beeping sound somewhere, but he ignored it. The broken noise that came out of Dean’s mouth—which would have been muffled by his own mouth, had Cas been a real boy—made him deaf to all other sounds temporarily.

It was a sound of thirst not quite quenched, of desire not yet slaked, of getting only part of what you need. Then Cas brushed a hand through Dean’s erection and Dean was orgasming with a loud cry. Cas brushed a hand across Dean’s cheek and kissed his still-closed eyes, then his still-parted lips.

“I love you, Dean,” he whispered before floating to the bedroom. He needed a few minutes of space.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All denominations of comments accepted, but no foreign currency, please. Please consider tipping your writer with a kudos. Thank you for letting us service you. ♥♥♥


	6. Left him lost and broken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean has two visitors and Cas doesn't like it one bit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have some plot without porn for a change.
> 
> All the editing for the new book is done and I got cover art today! [Stay tuned](http://jamiedeanwrites.tumblr.com/)!

♫"Left him lost and broken, like no other had before... His body died some years ago, but around here... love lives on."♪ - Dwight Yoakum, Mr. Johnson's Love

 

Cas was hovering over the bed when Dean walked into the bedroom, wrapped in only a towel. He saw Dean look at the bed and heave a deep sigh, looking for some reason dejected. If he had a stomach, Cas knew it would be in knots. He wished he could tell if Dean could feel him when he wasn’t half asleep.

Dean stripped off the towel, tossing it on the floor. Cas was finding his slovenliness upsetting. Dean was normally very tidy and rarely dropped clothes anywhere except the hamper or the laundry room. Yet there were now clothes lining the hallway floor and a damp towel lying on the bedroom carpet.

Cas watched as Dean flopped onto the bed on his stomach, groaning as he did so. He didn’t even turn out the lights. Cas was growing more concerned by the moment. He moved over to the bed and hovered next to Dean. He could tell Dean’s breathing was already evening out in sleep. That wasn’t too unusual.

Tentatively, he reached out and brushed over Dean’s nearest shoulder blade, needing the comfort he derived from their contact. When Dean abruptly shrugged as though trying to throw off something that itched, and mumbled a firm, “No!” Cas didn’t know if being unable to cry was a blessing or a curse. He withdrew, aching for Dean as much as a person without a body possibly could.

As his emotions got the better of him, he noticed the lights were flickering. Checking to make sure Dean was now asleep, he turned them off. He considered retreating downstairs, but instead he moved to the other side of the bed, where he could see Dean’s face. He lay there all night, watching. Only once Dean had been asleep for a very long time did he risk touching again. It felt like a goodbye.

When the sun came up again, Dean’s mood seemed to have improved significantly. Almost as soon as he was out of bed and dressed, he was picking up all the discarded clothing and taking it down to the laundry room. Cas followed him down, feeling lighter himself, now that Dean was in better spirits.

Dean actually whistled while he made himself breakfast. Cas smiled—or as much as he could do, without a form or a face—as he watched his friend move around the room. Soon Dean sat down and started eating, looking contented.

When Sam called at the tail end of breakfast, Cas finally found out what had improved Dean’s mood.

“Yeah, man, I’m good,” Dean told his brother. “I had the best dream.” There was a slight pause. “I know! Nightmares are usually all I get, right? This was... really not a nightmare,” Dean said with a laugh.

He opened the fridge and pulled out a soda while he listened to whatever Sam was saying.

“You’re gonna laugh, man.” Dean sighed. “There was... I was asleep. I mean, in the dream, I was asleep. And I could see myself, but there was also this... well, this angel... he was watching over me. Keeping me safe. And I dunno... I just felt... Nah, never mind. It’s stupid.”

Sam was obviously trying to convince Dean to confess the rest of it. Dean chewed on his nail and looked pensive, but his shoulders finally relaxed and straightened, right before he spoke. His voice was unusually soft, almost awed sounding. Cas was quite moved, even before his words registered.

“I felt... I felt _loved_ , okay?” Dean cringed like he was waiting for mockery, but evidently none came. He breathed out and his smile returned. “Yeah, it was. Really nice. So, I dunno, I just feel good today, even though it was a dream.” He cleared his throat. “So when are you thinking about coming to stay with me, man?”

Cas ignored the rest of the conversation, floating back to the living room instead to ponder the meaning of Dean’s dream. Could Dean sense him? Was Dean’s subconscious somehow picking up on Cas’ presence and letting Dean know what Cas was feeling? It seemed far-fetched, but then Cas had never believed in ghosts until he’d become one, so who was to say?

Cas didn’t even register the knocking until Dean strode into the room, saying, “Oh, hey, lemme call you back, okay? Someone’s here,” and walked to the door as he hung up the phone.

“Can I help you?” Dean asked as he opened the door.

“Uh, maybe. Sorry, there’s no way to make this less weird. Um, I used to live here. I’m sure you’ve probably thrown it out, but do you happen to remember if there was a box in the attic when you moved in?”

Cas didn’t need to breathe, which was just as well because at that moment, he wouldn’t have been able to. His brother Gabriel was standing only a few feet away.

“Uhh, actually, I’ve never been in the attic. Didn’t have enough stuff. You’re welcome to come in and look....” Dean stopped and waited for Gabriel to fill in his name.

“Oh, sorry. Gabriel. Gabriel Godson. And you’re....”

“Dean. Winchester. Come on in,” Dean said, stepping back.

Cas swept close, looking over his brother for signs of change that might indicate how long he’d been dead. Gabriel didn’t seem to be much older than Cas remembered, but he was changed. Horribly changed. Gabe had always been so vibrant. So full of joy and fun and whimsy. This man before Cas now was a pale shadow of the person his brother once was.

Cas realized he wasn’t listening to them only when they paused outside Dean’s bedroom. He tuned back into the conversation.

“Everything okay?” Dean asked.

Gabriel was staring into Dean’s room with haunted eyes. He glanced back at Dean and shook his head. “Uh, yeah. Yep, sorry, it’s just... that was my brother’s room. He, um....” Gabe trailed off and cleared his throat. “Anyway, you probably know the whole sordid set of details.”

“No, honestly I don’t, but I have a brother and he means the world to me, so whatever happened, man... I’m really sorry.”

Gabriel looked at Dean, his face awash with relief and gratitude. “That’s... yeah. Thanks.” Gabriel laughed, looking more like himself for a moment. “Sorry, not usually so maudlin. Would you believe I’m the trickster of the family?”

Dean just laughed politely.

Cas followed them up the drop down ladder to the attic. He was glad he couldn’t feel what he knew must be stifling heat. Within seconds of climbing up, sweat was already beading on Dean’s brow. Gabriel, thankfully, knew just where the box was and he pulled it up triumphantly from behind a beam. Dean reached down in the spot and picked up a piece of paper.

“Oh, hey, you....” Dean trailed away, eyes on the paper. He shook his head. “Sorry, he looked familiar for a second, but I really don’t think I know him.”

It was then that Cas realized the paper was actually a photograph of Cas himself. Gabriel took it and placed it in the box without speaking. They returned to the regular part of the house and then Dean started walking Gabriel back downstairs. Rather than follow, Cas went to Dean’s—formerly Cas’—bedroom and moved to the window, so he could watch his brother leaving.

When he got to the window, however, Cas’ memory was suddenly triggered and he flashed back on the day he fell _pushedIwaspushedHepushedmeohGodhelpsomeoneplease—_

_It’s midmorning and sunlight streams through the large sliding window that stands open in Cas’ room. Cas has just finished breakfast with his parents and arrived in his room. Because his grades for the semester were so good, they had agreed to let him enroll in the Study Abroad program. That means in two months, he’ll be going to France for six weeks, Germany for another six, and Italy for six weeks after that. He’ll be in Spain for the six months after that._

_He’d gotten a full academic scholarship to college, and lived at home rather than on campus, so his parents still had the entirety of the money they’d saved to send him to school with. They’ve just announced to his and his brothers’ shocked faces that they would be giving Cas the money to use for his time abroad—or whatever else he wished._

_Secretly, Cas isn’t sure this is fair. Gabriel could have used some of that money for the business he was trying to start up. And Zachariah... well, Zack didn’t deserve it at all, but he wouldn’t be happy and Cas was going to have to endure jibes and barely-veiled threats until he was out of the country, he was sure._

_As if summoned by Cas’ ill thoughts, Zachariah appears at the door._

_Cas sighs. “What do you want, Zach?”_

_“You conniving little kiss-ass piece of shit!” Zachariah hisses, much more openly hostile than Cas expected._

_“Don’t be stupid. I had no idea they’d be giving me the money!” Cas says. He has been considering whether to split it with his brothers, anyway, but he doesn’t say this. Zach is definitely swaying him the other way._

_Zach gets into his face, the garlic stench from his breakfast strong on his breath. “Yeah, sure you didn’t. Brown-nosing little sycophant. Always mommy and daddy’s favorite, weren’t you? From the time you were born, always taking their attention from your more deserving siblings.”_

_Cas raises an eyebrow defiantly. “Oh? Do I have brothers I haven’t met?” he asks coolly._

_It is the wrong thing to say. He sees this immediately, as the vein in Zachariah’s forehead starts to become a visible beating presence. His pale blue eyes are wild with menace and barely-contained fury. He stomps out of the room._

_Cas turns and moves to the open window, staring out at the yard below. He mutters, “Fucking psycho.”_

_The next thing he registers is the blunt pressure of two hands against his upper back, shoving him as hard as he’s ever been shoved. He can barely even cry out before he’s overbalancing, flying through the opening, the screen barely even slowing his momentum at all. Then he’s scraping his hands and arms on the shingles as he’s sliding down the roof._

_And he can’t stop himself and then he’s over the edge, and the ground and the concrete are coming too fast and he can’t avoid the big vase, but maybe he can—_

_Before he can finish the thought, there is blinding agony and then there is blackness._

—after that memory, Cas spent a while just floating. Not the way he normally did, where he sort of drifted in a haze. This time, he just couldn’t seem to keep a hold of himself. He would find himself in a room without remembering where he’d been before. Sometimes, he’d be vaguely aware of rapidly cycling through the rooms without really stopping or paying attention.

He knew the sun had gone down and come back up a few times. He also knew Dean had gone to bed a few times, but Cas had not followed. His brother had murdered him in cold blood. Cas didn’t even know if the family knew. On top of that, he’d probably just seen his other brother for the last time. He was reeling from the impact of it all.

Though he still didn’t feel like himself, he was snapped back to a stronger awareness when Dean took a shower and did not pleasure himself. It wasn’t that Dean did it during _every_ shower, but if he took a shower at night, it was almost guaranteed to happen. Only it didn’t. That was Cas’ first indicator that something was off.

Then Cas noticed that Dean had laid out special clothes on the bed. They weren’t the normal T-shirt and worn jeans he wore around or even the comfortable flannels and slightly less worn jeans he usually went out in. He had a black button up, in a material that looked expensive, alongside a pair of jeans that were in almost pristine condition.

The thing that set off warning bells in Cas’ mind, though, was when Dean started getting dressed and started talking to himself as he applied cologne in the mirror.

“You’re gonna do this. Like riding a bike. Whatever you thought was happening, either it’s just not or it’s over. Either way, do this, get past it, and move on, Winchester. You got me?” Dean pointed to himself in the mirror and then nodded, looking confident. Cas didn’t missed how Dean’s shoulders slumped as soon as he turned away from the mirror, though, or how he closed his eyes and sighed, looking dejected.

“Where are you going, Dean?” Cas wondered, floating with Dean as far as the front door.

Once Dean was gone, however, Cas felt himself wanting to drift again. With Dean not in the house, there seemed little reason to fight it and he had no idea how long passed between when Dean left and when he came back.

What Cas did know was that Dean did not return alone. Cas instantly snapped back to awareness, angry and alert.

The woman was on the tall side and blonde, but that’s all Cas could tell for the moment, since she and Dean seemed to be examining each other’s tonsils in great detail. When they finally pulled apart, Cas was more concerned with watching Dean, who was clearly very inebriated. Cas sincerely hoped he had not driven them here.

“Ew, your house is kinda creepy, babe.”

Cas did not like her use of that word.

“Huh?” Dean asked, turning to look at her through confused bleary eyes as he struggled to hang up his coat. “Howsit creepy?”

Cas was pleased to see Dean looked mildly affronted, even in his drunken state.

“I don’t know, it just is. Maybe if you got some new furniture or something. Looks like an old guy place. Or like somebody died here.” She rolled her eyes and flopped backward into the corner of the couch. “Anyway, are we gonna make out or what?”

Her smile was cunning and sly and Cas didn’t like it one bit.

“That’s what the hell we’re here for,” Dean mumbled, smiling like he was being charming, but Cas saw no trace of humor in his eyes.

“Why are you doing this, Dean?” Cas asked, floating close enough to Dean that the man would have felt Cas’ breath if he were breathing.

Dean sat on the couch, between the woman’s jean-clad legs and pushed her back into another kiss. Cas would have sworn he could feel his heart pounding, even though he didn’t have one. He flickered back and forth, disappearing and reappearing on different sides of them. Sometimes he felt more _present_ than other times.

Cas noticed the girl’s eyes opening a few times, but he didn’t really register it in his agitation until she pushed Dean away.

“What the fuck?” she asked breathlessly.

Dean looked more plain drunk than lust drunk when he pulled away. “What the fuck, what?” he asked, annoyance creeping into his voice.

Cas willed Dean to stay annoyed and stop kissing. Every second it kept happening, Cas was further losing his grip on himself. It had been slipping since he’d seen his brother and now he felt like he barely had any control.

“I keep seeing shit out of the corner of my eye. I’m telling you, this house is fucking creepy.” She looked at Dean sideways. “You some kinda creeper who gets off on living in haunted places?”

Dean huffed an unamused laugh and sat back. “You wanna leave? Door’s over there.”

Cas laughed at that, triumphant, but it was short-lived.

She sighed and flopped back, pulling Dean toward her. “Come on, Danny-baby, use that tongue of yours and make me forget everything else.

For some reason, the idea that she didn’t even know Dean’s name enraged Cas. “His. Name. Is. _Dean_!” Cas shouted at her, getting close. “And _HE_ ’ _S MINE_!” he bellowed, right next to her ear.

He knew instantly that she had heard him because her whole body went rigid. Dean’s head snapped up and her eyes flew open. She scrambled up and away from Dean and off the couch.

“Okay, I don’t know what the fuck sick game is going on here, but fuck this shit! I don’t know how you made it sound like somebody said “He’s mine” in my ear, but I’m outta here. I hope you and your freaky ghost boyfriend or whatever have a lot of fun together, you fucking psycho!”

With that, she was gone, and Cas was overwhelmed, first with relief and then with guilt.

Dean just wanted some real human companionship and Cas had selfishly ruined it. He wanted to float to Dean, but felt unworthy of his nearness. Then Dean surprised him by speaking.

“All right, look, I know you’re there. I don’t know who you are or what you want, but... I know you’re there.” Dean frowned. “Or, at least, you _were_  up until the past few days.” He swiped a hand down his face and stood up, looking around the room as he talked. “I... feel you. At night, I mean. And maybe in the shower sometimes and... I guess the rest might be my imagination, but....” Dean’s voice dropped to a low whisper, and he seemed to be talking to himself for a second. “This is so dumb. This is fucking crazy. _You’re_ fucking crazy, Winchester.”

Dean sighed and sat back down. “But I _feel_ you, okay? And it’s nice. Really nice, but, you know, you were gone, and I couldn’t, like, touch you back and that’s why I brought her here because I need to touch back....” Dean dropped his head into his hands. “And, you know, I don’t really mind that you ran her off, but I’m kinda pissed that the first time you spoke it was to her instead of me.”

Cas knew, if he had real eyes, they’d be as wide as dinner plates just then. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Not any of it. Dean was obviously still intoxicated and not thinking very clearly, but he also meant what he was saying.

Cas got close to Dean and tried to think about how he’s made himself known to the woman. He didn’t want to shout at Dean, but he had to make himself heard. Then he focused on all he felt for Dean. There was no use denying that Cas was in love with the man, so he focused on it. On how strongly he felt it. Then he got near to his love and spoke his name.

“Deeeaaaan,” he said, like a plea.

Dean’s head came up, eyes not frightened as the girl’s had been, but full of wonder.

“You’re really there, aren’t you? You’re not just my imagination. Holy shit,” Dean said breathlessly. “Tell me... tell me your name.”

“Caaaassss,” Cas said, more softly than before. Speaking audibly was very draining.

“Cas? Your name’s Cas?” Dean asked, smiling now. Then his brow furrowed. “Why did she say boyfriend? Are you a guy? Or... were you a guy, I guess....”

Cas tried to answer, but Dean couldn’t hear him. He tried again, but it was just taking too much energy. Then he spied Dean’s cell phone on the table and had an idea. Electricity would be a lot easier to move around than sound waves.

Dean jumped when his phone sounded a text beep. He glared at it, but picked it up. Cas floated to where he could see the alert. Dean had a message from <unknown caller>. Dean swiped across the screen and there was Cas’ message.

>Yes. A guy. Was, am, whichever.

Dean laughed a little. “So, this is you?” he asked, looking around. “Wish you’d done this before.”

Cas concentrated and another message appeared on Dean’s screen.

>Me too

>I’m sorry

Dean laughed again. “It’s not a big deal we didn’t text before, Cas.”

>No, for everything.

>Touching without permission (though honestly, I never expected you to be able to feel it)

>Not speaking

>Running off the flesh and blood person as if you belonged to me

>I’m sorry

Dean picked at his nails, vague smile on his face. “Yeah. It’s okay, though. I mean, in reverse order, she was kind of a dick,” he said, ticking off his fingers as he talked. “Second, I probably would have freaked out, honestly, if you’d contacted me before I acknowledged you were there. And C... well, let’s just say, I was okay with it, almost right from the start. I thought it was my imagination, but I liked it, so don’t worry.” Dean laughed again. “Not like it was giving you ghost boners,” he said then froze, eyes wide. “It doesn’t give you ghost boners, does it?”

>LOL

“You’re not laughing out loud because I can’t hear you,” Dean said, voice dripping sarcasm.

>Trust me, if I had the energy to move the sound waves, they’d hear me next door

“You’re a dick,” Dean said, but there was no heat behind it.

>Perhaps, but I don’t really have one, so I can’t get “ghost boners”

Dean’s face softened. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Cas.” Then he yawned abruptly. “Damn. I’m tired. We better continue this tomorrow.” Dean stood up, then hesitated. “You coming to bed?”

>Only if you want me to.

Dean smiled. “You’re coming to bed,” he said, walking up the stairs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love me? Hate me? On the fence? Want more? Tell me all the things. ♥


	7. They're steaming up the mirrors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas and Dean try to sort out their only half corporeal relationship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey lovelies! I know I am woefully behind on responding to comments and even on posting this chapter, but life is incredibly busy. I still love you all just as much and I read all your comments with a huge smile on my face, even when I have no time to respond. I'll reply soon, I promise! In the meantime, please enjoy this quiet interlude of a chapter.

♫"They're in my room; They're in my bathroom; They're steaming up the mirrors... There's a ghost in my head..."♪ - Louden Swain, Overachiever

The next morning, Cas honestly expected Dean to withdraw again. Since he’d been drunk the night before, it was only natural that his defenses were down and his level of skepticism was low. However, as soon as Dean opened his eyes, he was smiling and looking around.

“You still here, Cas?”

>I’m here

Dean grinned when he heard his phone buzz. He rolled over and checked it, nodding when he read Cas’ response.

“Good. Don’t run off this time, okay?”

>I can’t promise that

>If something else upsetting happens, I might go away again

>But I’ll come back

“Upsetting?” Dean asked. “What happened? Did I do something?”

>You didn’t do anything

>As for what happened, I’d rather not speak of it

Dean frowned, but nodded. Then he shook himself and got out of bed. “Well, I know ghosts don’t eat, but I’m starving.” He grinned again. “At least you’re a cheap date, right?” he asked, grabbing his phone from the night stand as he walked down stairs.

>How are you so okay with this?

Dean didn’t read the message until he was downstairs and had the eggs out of the fridge. As he read it, he chewed his lip compulsively, apparently working out how to answer.

“Ever since I moved in here, I’ve felt... good. Felt like I was welcome here in this house, but more than that, I just felt peaceful, like I haven’t felt in a long time. And I know part of it is just the move itself, away from Ruby and out on my own, but it’s not all that.” Dean looked around, as if he was trying to look Cas in the eye.

>I’m next to you on your left

Suddenly Dean turned and he was looking Cas almost directly in the face. It was unsettling. He’d never had the full force of those eyes on him before.

>You’re so fucking beautiful

Cas regretted it as soon as he’d sent the words, but he couldn’t get them back. Dean read them quietly, a shocked expression on his face. He slid his finger across the screen, as though he were touching the words. He grabbed a few more things from the refrigerator before speaking again.

“Uh, thanks. I don’t... I wish I knew what you looked like. It doesn’t matter, or anything, just curious, though.”

>You do, actually

Cas started to tell Dean about the photograph in the attic, but then he remembered the fair all those years ago.

>Remember the blue eyed boy at the fair when we were little?

>That was me

“Shut up!" Dean paused all movement for a moment. "No way, are you serious? What are the friggin’ chances?” Dean practically shouted. He shook his head and started breaking eggs into a bowl and adding other ingredients to them. “That’s crazy. Always wondered what happened to you.” Dean smiled as he whisked his eggs and heated oil in a pan.

They were quiet as Dean cooked and plated his breakfast. When he sat down to eat, with a mug of coffee by his side, Dean pointed at the chair opposite him and told Cas to sit there. Then he ate only a couple of bites before speaking again.

“So, um, how did you, um....” Dean waved his fork in the direction of Cas. “You know, how did you die?” His voice was quiet and sad.

Cas could feel the desire to drift rising as the memories threatened to overwhelm him again _pushedIwaspushed_ , but he held himself in check this time, forcing the memories away.

>I’d rather not discuss it

Dean frowned, but resumed eating without saying anything else. Cas watched him silently for a few minutes, then he considered the fact that he had no idea if anyone even knew his brother was responsible for his death. Had he been brought to justice? Cas didn’t know. Cas started to write another message, but he wasn’t sure what to say yet.

“I hope someday you’ll be able to tell me,” Dean said before taking a long sip of his coffee. “Um, I never finished answering your question, though. About why I’m okay with this.”

>One day I will.

>But why are you?

“Well, I mean, after the welcoming feeling, but even before the touching... there was the stuff with the music. I wasn’t sure it was anything at first, but in the past couple weeks, I’ve worked out it was you, even though you pretty much stopped doing it.”

>Sorry. Touching you was more interesting.

Dean laughed at that. “Yeah, well, I wasn’t always sure if I could feel it or not, you know? When I was in bed and half asleep, it _felt_ real, but the next morning, I always convinced myself it couldn’t be. It just kept happening, though. And it felt so damn good....” Dean sighed. “Look, sex is great. I’ve had tons of it with other people and I’ve had even more by myself and, honestly, by myself is usually better. I don’t connect with people, usually. When I do—”

>I read Cassie’s letter.

“Yeah. So, I’m leery of relationships and all of that because I have a hard time getting comfortable and when I do, they don’t want me back... I don’t know, but this feels like something... Shit, I sound like a lunatic. You’re a fucking spirit from the beyond,” Dean said, half laughing. “But I feel like you _get_ me. And I can only assume you feel as drawn to me as I do you.”

>I do

>I tried not to get close to you

>But, well...

>Moths and flames, ships and sailors

>And other assorted cliches about being pulled toward something

>Almost against your will

“Well, I’m glad, Cas. For whatever brought us together here. These past few weeks have been really nice, even though we weren’t speaking much with words. Just being quiet together and feeling you close....” Dean trailed off, sipping coffee thoughtfully.

>I know what you mean.

Dean set his coffee down. “Man, I just can’t believe you were the kid at the fair. What are the damn odds of that, huh? I mean, okay, I don’t believe in fate and all that, but it’s a wild coincidence, right?”

>It is very strange

>I’d hardly call it fate, since we didn’t meet up again until death, but...

>It’s very strange

“It sucked when you left. Didn’t even know your name, but when we rode the carousel, you just looked so excited and I thought you were so cool,” Dean said, nostalgic smile on his face.

>Me??

Cas was surprised. He had never been thought of as cool by anyone, ever.

“Yeah, you. You talked like you were smart, and you had these nice clothes, but you didn’t act all stuck up or anything. You weren’t too good for the penguin. You didn’t even care what anyone thought.” Dean chuckled to himself, clearly lost in a memory.

>I wish I’d gotten to know you back then

>I think my childhood would have been much more enjoyable with you in it

“Me too. I mean, my childhood wasn’t too bad, I had Sa—” Dean sat back suddenly, sloshing coffee onto the counter as he set the cup down too hard. “Aw, fuck!”

>What?

>What is it?

>What’s wrong?

Dean had Cas very worried. He looked incredibly upset.

Dean looked in Cas’ general direction with wide, unhappy eyes. “I told my brother he could move in here for a while.”

***

After Dean’s initial panic subsided, Cas was able to convince him that his brother’s presence would not be the end of the world. They moved from the kitchen to the couch and returned to a modified version of the routine with which Cas had become familiar before his brother’s arrival caused him to drift.

The main difference, of course, was that Dean was aware of his presence now. They could communicate—and Dean could and did ask Cas to touch him. Dean couldn’t always feel it, but most of the time he could. A few times, Cas was able to feel a tingling when Dean reached out to try to touch _him_. Dean couldn’t feel it, but he liked knowing that Cas could. By the end of the first half hour, Dean had all but mastered the ability to look Cas in the eyes—even though Dean couldn’t actually _see_ the eyes he was looking into.

“This is so weird,” Dean said as he stroked his hands down over where Cas’s low back would be if he had one. “I mean, good weird, I think, but still weird.”

>I really would have expected you to be less comfortable having a ghost boyfriend

Dean laughed. “Yeah, well. I’m kind of a weird guy anyway. There’s plenty of people who know me who’d think it was stranger that I let you use the word boyfriend than that you were a ghost.” He looked away and Cas thought there was sadness in his face. “Dean Winchester: so afraid of commitment he had to date people who weren’t alive.”

>It isn’t commitment you’re afraid of.

“Nah, but everyone thinks it is.”

>I don’t. I know it’s a fear of getting hurt.

>I can’t promise not to hurt you, Dean.

>But it will never be on purpose

>Or because I don’t care about you

Cas wasn’t sure which part of his small speech did the trick, but the sadness on Dean’s face was wiped away and replaced by a happy smile.

“I’m glad I moved into your house, Cas.”

***

Though Dean had panicked over Sam’s arrival, they still had several days until he was due to arrive. Their new routine was one Cas loved. In the mornings they talked in bed for a few minutes, then Dean had breakfast and they talked a bit more. After that, Dean would generally lie on the couch with Cas for a bit and then he’d excuse himself to take a shower.

Cas had expressed surprise at this the first time, but Dean’s explanation brought the return of his earlier guilt.

“Look, I know I’ve been pretty cool about all this, but the whole getting naked with a ghost thing... yes, you’ve already been in there with me a few times, and I’m probably being ridiculous, but... it feels different now.”

Cas did not respond as Dean sat up and rubbed a hand up and down his face.

“There’s a difference between wondering if something is there and _knowing_ there’s someone there that you can’t see... or touch back.” Dean shifted and groaned. “Shit. I’m sorry, Cas. I liked it when I could feel you, just... gimme some time, okay?”

>Dean, I don’t want to push you into anything you aren’t comfortable with.

>I'm surprised and, yes, disappointed, but not upset.

>I can’t even imagine what this is like for you.

>You don’t really even know what I looked like, as you said.

Dean blew out a breath. “Cool. Thanks.”

With that, he was gone up the stairs and Cas did not follow. He knew he probably could have and Dean would have been none the wiser, but Cas didn’t consider tricking Dean a perk of being a ghost. He’d stolen enough moments he shouldn’t have as it was.

Cas sort of drifted until Dean got out of the shower. When Dean got downstairs again, he was wearing only a pair of sweatpants.

“Hey, Cas?” he asked in a soft voice. “You around?” He walked over and picked up his phone when it beeped.

>Of course.

>Did you think I would leave?

“Nah, I just... um, I was thinking about taking a nap. You wanna join me?”

>Will there be spooning?

>I like spooning

“Yeah me too, Cas,” Dean told him with a laugh. “Me too.”

Cas followed him this time and they made their way to the bedroom.

>You know this was my room

“It’s a good room,” Dean said, walking to pull back the covers. He seemed to hesitate before getting in. “Do you think, um... Well, I was wondering, if I could be big spoon. I could hold a pillow so my arms are in the right place....” He sighed. “Is that stupid?”

>I’d like it very much, Dean.

Dean relaxed immediately and smiled. “Good, okay.”

He climbed in the bed and pulled a pillow in front of himself. Cas drifted to lay down in front of him and when he was settled, Dean’s arm was in just about the right place. Dean’s right arm was bent near his head, his hand tucked beneath the pillow on which his head was resting. Cas used that elbow as a pillow, even though he didn’t need it.

Dean’s breathing started evening out rather quickly.

“I think I can feel you, Cas,” Dean said, barely more than a whisper. “Feels nice,” he said, squeezing the pillow and also Cas to a degree.

Within seconds, Dean was completely asleep. Cas, this time, did not float. He lay there, wrapped in Dean’s arms, just enjoying the moment. He didn’t want to drift. He wanted to bask and savor. So that was exactly what he did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You should probably brush your teeth. I'm afraid the sweetness of Destiel might cause cavities otherwise. Please feel free to continue saying things to me, and I will try to get back to all your comments old and new very soon. Maybe even this afternoon. ♥♥♥


	8. All you know is alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a time of confessions for Cas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've driven cross-country, gotten new cover art for my book, and posted a Sabriel Big Bang since I saw you last. Other stuff too, but that's the biggest stuff. 
> 
> And on Thursday, I will be getting on a bus for a tour of Nashville, TN with Richard Speight, Junior, whereupon I shall be as dead as poor Cas. x_x

♫“ _All you know is alone, you see a Phantom Stranger_ …”♪ - Rob Zombie, Return of the Phantom Stranger  
  


Cas, for once, had paid attention to the clock beside the bed, so he knew that Dean had been sleeping for half an hour. He’d been lying there, enjoying the sensation of it, for every second of that time. However, while it felt wonderful, it wasn’t exactly mentally stimulating and he could feel himself starting to want to drift.

To stave off his lethargy, Cas turned to face Dean, doing his best to stay in the same position, just facing the other way. He wondered—and not for the first time—how it was being a ghost worked. He was invisible, yet he couldn’t see behind him. He mentally shrugged it off and concentrated instead on the oceans of freckles laid out before him on Dean’s captivating face.

He traced across them as he had so many times now. Dean’s face in sleep was even more beautiful than when he was awake, if that were possible. Although Cas doubted anything was better than Dean’s face when he smiled, green eyes crinkled at the corners his tongue caught between his teeth.

“I love you,” Cas told him. He heard a noise behind him, but he was too distracted to worry much about it. Dean’s face was infinitely more interesting than a small beeping sound.

Since he could no longer see the clock, he had no idea how long it was before Dean began to stir. He just knew that he did not get bored this time. Dean blinked a few times, then stretched and groaned. He looked in Cas’ general direction, as if trying to discern his presence.

>Hello, gorgeous

As soon as Cas sent the message he realized his mistake. The phone had made the same beeping sound when he’d told Dean he loved him. He’d automatically sent his thoughts to the phone. It had become a habit.

“Fuck,” he said, making sure not to transmit the message this time.

He wanted to stop Dean from reaching for the phone, but he didn’t. He just hovered there as Dean reached right through him to get the phone from the nightstand. He watched in fear as Dean pulled it back toward him and held it up to read the messages.

Cas could see the exact moment when Dean saw the first message. His face went completely blank. He stared at the phone for a long moment, without blinking or speaking.

“Cas,” he finally said. “I don’t... I can’t... I care about you—”

>I didn’t mean to say it

>I never meant for you to know

>I know this is different for you

>I’ve just been watching you and learning about you for so long

>I know you so well now

>Please don’t be angry

To Cas’ surprise, Dean laughed. “Angry? That’s definitely not one of my reactions. I’m scared and honored and really, really surprised, but angry? No. I just... like you said, it’s different for me. I’m just learning about you. I don’t really know that much and, well, not to put too fine a point on it, but, uh, there is still the whole thing where you’re... dead.” Dean’s voice was full of regret. “Feels like a bad idea to let myself feel something like that, you know?”

>I know

Of course Cas knew. He’d known the whole time. Still, it stung all the same. It was a rejection, no matter how logical it might be. It hurt that Dean remained just out of his reach. If not for his stupid brother—

“Hey, Cas? It’s getting cold in here. Is that you?”

Cas did his best to rein in his emotions.

>Yes, I’m sorry.

>I was thinking about... what happened to me.

“Will you tell me?”

Cas considered the question. He really did want someone to know. He still had no idea if his family knew what happened. When he thought about it, though, he got so angry. His brother had taken everything. _Everything_. All because of Zachariah’s selfish pettiness, Cas was dead and could never have Dean. All he’d been doing was looking out his window and then—

>pushediwaspushediwaspushediwas

>pushediwaspushediwaspushed

>iwaspushediwaspushediwaspushed

>pushediwaspushediwaspushediwas

>pushediwaspushediwaspushed

>iwaspushediwaspushediwaspushed

>pushediwaspushediwaspushediwas

>pushediwaspushediwaspushed

>iwaspushediwaspushediwaspushed

“Hey, whoa, Cas, calm down. It’s all right now. You’re safe. You’re with me. It’s okay,” Dean said in a soft, scared voice.

It brought Cas back to himself, though his anger and despair remained.

>But I’m not, Dean.

>I’m not with you.

>And I never can be

“Cas....” Dean started, but Cas didn’t wait for him to finish.

He let himself drift, right up through the ceiling and into the attic. He heard strange sounds, but he ignored them. He knew Dean continued to call out to him and wait for a response, but he didn’t answer. He had been so foolish to let himself hope he could have anything with Dean. How could they be together when Cas wasn’t even _real_? He was just a wisp of energy and nothing more.

Try as he might to completely let go and float like he normally did, his guilt over leaving Dean without a word again kept him grounded in the house. He decided he’d better respond, even if he didn’t go back down to where Dean was.

>The afterlife is fucking stupid

>I’m sorry

>I need some time

>I’ll be back

Cas drifted for a while, though he remained marginally aware of Dean. Normally he would've checked out completely, but he didn't really want to. He thought he'd be risking any sort of connection with Dean if he did that. He gave it a little time and then he started trying to come back to himself. He honed in on Dean and made himself send a few texts.

>I'm sorry

>Just got into a bad place in my head

>Are we okay?

Dean was in the kitchen, but his phone was not. Cas watched as he cocked his head, listening intently, as if he wasn't sure he heard his phone or not.

"Cas? Was that you?"

>Yes

When the chime sounded again, Dean walked into the bedroom to get the phone. He read the texts, his face expressionless. Cas felt sick with dread as he waited for a response.

"Yeah, Cas, we're okay. Honestly, I don't know what else we are, but I'm not mad or anything. This has gotta suck for you. I get it."

>Could we lie down on the couch together?

"Um, actually, I have a better idea, if you're interested." Dean was flushing a deep pink. "While you were gone, I kinda... well, I guess I changed my mind about us taking a shower together. I think I'd actually really like that."

Cas was shocked, given the things Dean had said earlier, but he definitely wasn’t disappointed by the prospect.

>Are you sure?

“Yeah. It’s... yeah. I’m sure.” Dean waited, perhaps for a response from Cas. Then he said, “All right. Meet me upstairs, I guess.”

Cas floated up to the bathroom where Dean took all his showers, and waited for Dean to make his way there. He was thankful he didn’t have a body right then because it meant he couldn’t overload on adrenaline. If he’d had a body, he was sure he’d have been much more nervous and shaky. As it was, he was excited and anxious and a little scared.

Then Dean was in the room with him and stripping down. Cas had seen it before, but it hadn’t been quite like this. Dean was getting naked with intent, this time. Not just to shower, but to have Cas touch him. It made everything new.

“All right, here goes,” Dean said as he slid his pants down over his hips.

Cas could see that Dean was half hard already. Cas was stunned to think the idea of his touch was doing that to Dean, but he didn’t know of any other reason. He was also surprised by how shy Dean seemed. He knew Cas had watched him before. Maybe the intent changed things for him too.

“I can’t bring the phone with me in the shower, so if you wanna tell me something once we’re in there, I guess you need to find another way,” Dean said quietly, slowly sliding his boxer briefs off.

Dean turned the water on and let it get warm. The mirror quickly steamed up and Cas decided to say something before they got in the shower. He traced words into the condensation on the mirror as Dean watched.

“’You’re gorgeous?’” Dean read out with a small laugh. “I’m glad you think so. Maybe you can, uh, show me how gorgeous when we get in, huh?”

Dean pulled aside the curtain and stepped into the shower, and Cas made his way there too. Dean grabbed the soap and started getting it wet. Then he paused.

“Um, let me wash up real quick first, all right? Wash my hair and all that. Then I’ll, um, let you know I’m ready.”

Cas took the opportunity to look Dean over again from his feet to his face. His feet were big and goofy, like all feet. His ankles were slimmer than one might expect. His muscular calves bowed out slightly and, above his knobby knees, so did his thighs. He turned to wet his hair and Cas could see the indentation of muscle along the side of his thigh and also his full, round ass. His chest wasn’t as well-defined as his back, but his broad shoulders and rippling biceps and forearms more than made up for it.

Finally, Cas took in Dean’s long neck, his strong chin, and the delicate sweep of his closed lashes. He had a nearly-perfect face that Cas thought he’d never tire of looking at, no matter how it might wrinkle or fill with lines and sun spots. The man was beautiful and Cas wanted to drink in the sight forever.

“I’m ready, I guess. Um, well obviously,” Dean said with a laugh, gesturing down at his now-full erection.

Cas reached out with his consciousness or whatever energy he was and stroked lightly over Dean’s face. Dean closed his eyes and hummed.

“Feels nice,” he whispered hoarsely.

As Cas moved down across Dean’s chest, his nipples, and his arms, he watched gooseflesh break out across Dean’s skin in response. Dean’s breathing was faster and more shallow as Cas tried to touch every single inch of the other man. Then, when he could wait no longer, Cas reached out and took hold of Dean’s proud erection.

“Fuck,” Dean hissed, reaching for his cock too. “Feels... God, Cas, I can’t even describe how that feels.” He stroked himself in time with Cas’s touch. “How come I can feel you, but you can’t feel me? Doesn’t seem fair.”

Cas paused, wondering about that. When he touched Dean, he sort of pictured hands, but he didn’t really try picturing parts of himself when Dean tried to touch him. Could it be as simple as that? He decided to find out. He moved forward, so that he was close to Dean’s ear.

“Hoooold oooout yooooour haaaand,” he said.

He used up too much energy speaking, and he was worried Dean would hold it out palm up, but evidently he understood what Cas was looking for. Dean raised an arm and held his hand up, with the palm facing forward toward Cas. Cas pictured his chest and did his best to lean onto Dean’s hand.

Dean gasped and his eyes flew open. He watched his hand as it moved across the empty looking space in front of him, where Cas was. Cas could feel a tingling sensation as those long fingers traced patterns in the air. He kept picturing more of himself as Dean’s hand moved. He went back to stroking Dean’s erection and within moments, Dean was close.

“Gonna come, Cas, fuck,” Dean cried out, but did not go over.

Cas leaned close, to the other ear this time, and whispered, “You’re sooo beautiful.”

Dean came all over the tub, with a series of whimpers.

***

The next couple of days were some of the happiest Cas had known, in life or death. He and Dean got to know each other on a more intimate level, both physically and emotionally. He had never felt closer to anyone. Though he couldn’t exactly feel Dean’s touch in the same way he would have if he were alive, they _were_ able to touch, and it was more than Cas had had in a long time.

Talking to Dean, though, that was the part he enjoyed the most. While Dean was beautiful, and being allowed to touch his nearly perfect body was a gift, it was nothing on the way they talked to one another. They had so many shared ideas, but enough opposing ones to keep things interesting. Dean had such a great mind and such a unique way of looking at the world that Cas couldn’t help but marvel at him.

>You’re such a fascinating man, Dean Winchester

Dean scoffed. “Me? Nah. I’m nothin’ special. Just a guy who made a thing somebody happened to want.”

>I don’t mean the thing you made.

>I mean *you*

>You are fascinating. The way your brain works.

“I’m weird, is what you’re saying,” Dean said with a laugh. “Nah, I guess most people don’t think like me, but usually people think that’s a bad thing.” He rubbed the back of his neck, a flush coloring his skin a pretty pink. “You seem to get me, though. I’m not used to that. It’s, uh, it’s nice, you know?”

>The same is true for me.

>Most people didn’t “get” me, either.

“Seriously? But you’re so awesome!” Dean seemed genuinely surprised.

Before he could second-guess himself, he told Dean the truth.

>My own brother pushed me out a window.

“ _What_?! Not the one who was here? Gabriel or whatever?” Dean asked, horrified.

>No. Zachariah.

“That’s how you, you know, died?” Dean asked, looking pale.

>Yes. pushediwaspushediwas

Cas struggled to get himself under control.

>Sorry. Yes, it is.

“I’m so sorry, Cas. I can’t even imagine doing that to my brother.” Dean cleared his throat. “I take it there’s no way it was accidental?”

>No. He meant to do it.

>He hated me.

>Probably still does.

Dean sighed heavily. “That sucks so hard, man. I’m sorry.”

>It’s all right, I suppose.

>I met you, right? :)

And it was true, he realized. He’d gotten a chance to meet Dean and he wouldn’t trade that, not even for breathing, he supposed.

***

“Okay, I know this sucks, but when Sam gets here, you know the drill, right?”

>Dean, calm down. It’s all right.

>I understand your brother can’t know about me.

>It’s going to be fine.

“No, it’s just... I’m going to tell him. Just not yet, okay?” He ran a hand through his short-cropped hair. “I don’t want it to be like, ‘Hey, thanks for moving in, by the way there’s a ghost, here’s your room, you hungry?’”

Cas laughed to himself.

>LOL

Dean smirked. “Liar. You didn’t laugh out loud.”

>I did! You just didn’t hear me. :P

“Fuck, you’re fun to be with, Cas,” Dean said softly, a partial smile on his face. “I know this should be completely weird, but somehow it isn’t.”

>Good.

>You’re fun to be with too.

A knock at the door had Dean looking panicked again.

“Shit, he’s here. So, we’re gonna text back and forth, right? That’s what we agreed?”

>Yes, now let your brother in.

Dean walked to the door and opened it. Sam was on the other side, smiling.

“Dude, were you talking to yourself? Looks like I got here just in time,” Sam teased.

“Shut up,” Dean said, pulling a face.

Cas laughed again, but he didn’t send a text this time. Instead, he hung back and watched as Sam and Dean brought in all of Sam’s things. They amounted to considerably less than both Cas and Dean had been expecting.

“Are you bringing the rest later?” Dean asked when they had brought in the last of the boxes from Sam’s vehicle.

“There’s nothing else to bring, actually.” Sam looked uncomfortable.

“What are you talking about? You’ve got furniture.”

Sam sighed and looked pained. “No. Actually, I don’t. A lot of it I bought with Ruby, so I just left it with her, but the things that were just mine, she either sold or threw out while I was at work yesterday.”

“What a fucking dick! Man, that sucks. I’m sorry.”

Sam shrugged. “When you hold up a few pieces of furniture against the rest of my life married to someone who had me so completely fooled, it doesn’t feel like such a big deal, you know? I found out before I married her. I’m counting it as a win.”

"Wow. All right. I guess that's a fair point," Dean conceded. 

Cas could tell Dean wanted to say more, but he held his tongue for his brother's sake. Cas smiled, or what passed for it, even though Dean couldn't see. Then he decided a text was in order this time. 

>You're a good brother.

Cas knew Dean would believe it more coming from him and that made him feel good. He watched Dean check his phone and try to hide his smile from Sam, but it didn't work.

"Uh-oh, what's that, Dean? Who's got you smiling like that at a text?" Sam asked, grinning.

Dean's expression quickly shuttered. "What? Nothing. Nobody. Shut up," he finished as Sam laughed. Then he sighed. "There's a guy, all right? But that's all I'm telling you right now, so don't ask."

Sam mined zipping his lips and tossing a key, but his smirk sort of ruined the effect.

"Whatever. Are you hungry?"

"Starved. Can I take you out to dinner, though? I really appreciate you letting me move in like this."

Dean snorted. "Right, 'cause it's not like I lived with you for a few years or anything. We can go out, though. I don't mind cooking, but I haven't gone out much lately."

Dean picked up his phone and started writing a text without announcing who it was to, so Cas came over to read it, as they had discussed.

<U don't mind if we go out, right?

>Of course not!

>Have fun with your brother. :)

Cas hesitated then added another text.

>Seems like he could use some fun.

Dean nodded, chewing his lip, until Sam snorted.

"Dude, you know you actually have to write it down for them to see it, right?"

Dean rolled his eyes. "You ready or what?"

Within moments, they were gone and Cas went floating.

***

The next few days were different, but fun for Cas. He really enjoyed watching the brothers interact. Sam knew a lot of random facts, but his knowledge always sparked Dean’s competitive side and Dean would take his turn showing off how much _he_ knew. It was amusing to watch.

It was difficult going back to not having Dean speak to him—except during showers and at bedtime, of course—but the texting way was fun too. It was also nice getting to hear Dean talk about him to Sam, even if the exact nature of their relationship remained a secret. Dean kept all the details—like how they met—as vague and open to interpretation as possible.

“Well, even if you are being all double-oh-seven about it, I’m glad you met someone. He sounds pretty cool.”

“Thanks, Sam. He is.”

“So, when do I get to meet him?” Sam asked, taking a long pull off his beer.

Dean rolled his eyes. “It’s not that kinda thing yet, Sam. It’s too new, all right? He’s, um... he’s a little different and I’m not sure you’re going to approve.”

“Dude, give me some credit,” Sam said with a frown. “You know I’m not judgmental or anything.”

Dean waved a dismissive hand. “Yeah, Sam, I know, just... trust me, all right? This is a lot even for a touchie-feelie hippy-type like you, okay?”

Sam just frowned again, finishing his beer. Cas felt bad for them both.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love you schmoopy babies ♥♥♥


	9. A warning no one read

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes brothers can surprise each other. And sometimes, they can be absolute shits.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh so much plot in this one. Very little smut. A little of what some of you have asked for. A little something I put in as a response to someone yelling at me on another fic. A dash of humor, a touch of angst, eh voila! 
> 
> Tomorrow is tour day, and Nashcon is after that, so the chance of getting another update before Monday is low. I meant to post sooner, but I had to turn in my Destiel Reverse Bang draft (posting for that starts in mid-March, I think), which meant I had to finish writing it, so...

“ _Ghost of perdition...a warning no one read, tragic friendship_ …” - Opeth, Ghost of Perdition  
  


Dean was upstairs taking a solitary shower when the doorbell rang the next day. The brothers were going out to eat, so Dean had let Cas know he just needed to get clean and they’d have something better later in bed. Cas was okay with that, if mildly disappointed. It wasn’t like he could reach his own completion, anyway—although he did enjoy watching Dean reach his.

Cas watched idly as Sam walked toward the door and opened it. He assumed it was a package delivery or one of Dean’s friends. He took more notice when Sam didn’t immediately take or sign anything or greet the person as if he knew them.

“—help you?” Sam was asking.

“Uh, you’re not the guy who was here last week.” Was that Gabriel? “I think his name was Dean?”

“Okay.”

Sam didn’t budge from the doorway. He and Dean were both suspicious by nature and dropping his brother’s name did not earn the stranger entrance to the house. Cas was frustrated because he was pretty sure that was Gabriel, though it was hard to tell from the voice and he didn’t want to move from his spot.

“Um, I used to live here. My name is Gabriel. I left a few things in the attic and he let me pick up the box, but I think there might have been another box, maybe.”

Sam’s posture relaxed at last. “Oh, yeah, I think he told me about that. Come on in. Sorry. My brother and I have had trouble in the past.”

Gabriel walked in, hands up at his shoulders. “Hey, no, I get it. People are scary assholes, my own brother included. Can’t be too careful.”

Sam laughed. “Uh, Dean’s in the shower and I’m afraid I don’t know where the attic is.”

“Ha, well, luckily, I can take us there,” Gabriel said, smiling a little.

Cas looked over his brother. He looked thinner than Cas remembered, and his eyes were tired and sad. He wished he could comfort him with the knowledge that Cas lived on in some form, but Cas thought speaking to his brother would probably be more terrifying for Gabriel than comforting.

The three of them made their way into the attic. Gabriel went first to the area where the original box had been found, but his shoulders sagged. Evidently, whatever he was looking for was not to be found in the first spot.

“Sam?” Dean called from down the ladder. “What’re you doing? I thought we were—” He stopped as his head became visible above the hole in the attic floor. “Oh, hey. Back again?”

“Yeah,” Gabriel said on a sigh. “Sorry, the box didn’t have everything in it that I thought it would. Just thought I’d try again.”

“Okay, no worries. I’m gonna go get dressed. Take your time.”

Though he wanted to see his brother, Cas decided watching Dean get dressed would be infinitely more interesting in the long run, so he floated down to the bedroom.

>You look good naked.

Dean snorted when he checked his phone.

“Yeah, thanks,” he said in a low voice. “Any idea what your brother wants?”

>None whatsoever.

>He wasn’t particularly sentimental when I knew him.

>I think my death has changed him, though.

“I’m sure it has,” Dean murmured as he threw on pants over the boxer briefs he’d shimmied into.

Cas almost mourned when a shirt was pulled on over Dean’s broad shoulders, but he knew he could see him naked again soon. He was going to ask Dean how soon that could be, but he heard voices coming down the hallway from the attic.

“Hey,” Dean said, stepping out his door. “You couldn’t find it? What were you looking for? I found a couple things in the rooms, I think.”

“No, it’s not there. Um,” Gabriel said, scratching his head. “I guess they didn’t tell you the history of the house when you bought it?”

“Nah, they didn’t tell me anything like that,” Dean said.

Gabriel took a breath that sounded as though it hurt and let it out forcibly. “My older brother pushed my younger brother out that window,” he said in a rush, pointing toward Dean’s—formerly Cas’s—room.

“Oh, man, that sucks!” Sam said.

“That’s awful, Gabriel, I’m sorry,” Dean said.

Cas wondered if anyone besides him could tell there was no surprise in Dean’s voice.

“Yeah, it’s... not great. So, yeah, he’s still not awake and I’m just trying to think of whatever I can and I thought his favorite book was in that box and it wasn’t and—”

“Uh, what book?” Dean asked, then did a double take. “Wait. What do you mean still not awake? He didn’t die?”

Cas felt strange. He couldn’t focus on wondering if their brothers noticed how hopeful Dean sounded. He was too invested in Gabriel’s answer to Dean’s question.

“Oh, sorry, I guess I did make it sound that way. No, um, he’s been in a coma ever since. And I just thought if I read him _Cuckoo’s Nest_ , it might wake him up.” He sighed. “I mean, I could buy another copy, but he had notes in the margins and stuff.”

Dean’s mouth worked like he couldn’t remember how to speak. “Uh. I have that. The book. I found it. I, um, I’ll get it.”

Before he could do that, Cas felt stranger than he’d felt since he died. Three sets of eyes swung in his direction, fear evident in two of the gazes and wonder in the third. He had manifested.

“What the fuck?” he asked before abruptly blinking out and drifting.

***

When he came back, Gabriel was gone. Sam was gone too, apparently to work. Dean was pacing the living room, seemingly unable to stand still for even a moment. When his text message alert went off, he practically dove across the room for the phone.

>I’m not dead??

“Fuck, Cas, _there_ you are! Man, I had to try and explain everything to Sam and Gabriel and if they hadn’t seen you, I know they wouldn’t have believed me.” He chewed his lip. “Gabriel left to go read to you for a while and when he comes back, he’s gonna take my phone and talk to you, okay? And, um... well, I’m gonna go to the hospital for a while.”

Cas was still in too much shock to really know how to feel about any of what Dean was telling him. He’d been in a coma this whole time? It didn’t seem possible. How could he be here? If he wasn’t dead, how could he be here?

“I know this has to be weird for you, man. To think you’re dead and then... I’m so fucking happy, though, Cas. I mean, you’re _alive_. If we can get you to wake up, you and me....” Dean faltered then, looking scared.

Cas hadn’t thought about that. He could be with Dean for real. Touch him with real hands. Get touched _back_.

>Holy shit.

>I could actually BE with you.

>We gotta get me back into my body and wake me up!

Dean was visibly relieved by Cas’ words.

“Awesome. Um, I guess go ahead and try to get back?”

Oh. Right. He concentrated on his body, just to see if he could feel it. He honestly couldn’t say he felt any kind of connection, but if he drifted... Yes, he could hear that faint beeping. And something else now. Those strange voices again, but one of them... One of them was familiar, wasn’t it?

>I think I can hear Gabriel talking to me.

However, he couldn’t seem to force himself to re-enter his body, no matter how much he wanted to.

>I don’t know how to get back, Dean.

Dean stayed positive, however. “It’s cool, man. I got ideas, all right? I’ve had a few hours now to think about this. I’m gonna talk to you in the hospital and I want you to concentrate really hard whenever I’m there. Try listening for me. And then, you are gonna try to reach out and touch me, while I’m there.” Dean shrugged. “It’ll probably take a few tries to get it to work, but, hey, we both got time, right?” He smiled.

>Right :)

>This is very exciting, Dean.

“Yeah, no kidding. I get to see you in person today!” Dean grinned. “I’m pretty stoked.”

>Will you

>Will you take a picture?

>Of me? I wanna see myself.

“Of course. I’ll borrow Gabriel’s phone or something. Or Sam should be back in a little while.”

>Honestly, Gabriel doesn’t need to borrow your phone.

>I can text him just as easily on his.

“Oh. Okay, cool. Um—”

There was a knock at the door.

“That’s probably him now,” Dean said, striding that way. He flung open the door and jerked his head back toward the living room. “Come on in. Cas just told me you don’t need my phone. He can use yours.”

“Um, okay,” Gabriel said, frowning slightly. “So how do I do it? Is there something special I have to say or do to get him to—”

>Hello, Gabriel.

Gabriel looked down at his phone when it trilled, going slightly pale when he saw the message.

“Hey, Cas,” he whispered. A tiny echo of a smile turned up one corner of his mouth. “How you been, kiddo? I’ve missed you.”

>I’ve missed you too, Gabriel.

>I’ve been not quite dead.

>How’ve YOU been?

Gabriel’s smile got bigger and he took a shaky breath. “Not too great, actually. Um... You know, let me get Dean on his way and then we’ll talk about it, okay?”

“Yeah, I’m kind of anxious to get over there,” Dean said.

“Okay, so I put your name on the list, just in case, but you probably won’t even need to bother with that. Just go right up to room 919. He’s the only one in there. Uh, I guess you really didn’t know him before, so it shouldn’t be a shock, but just be prepared that he doesn’t look hale and hearty, okay?” Gabriel glanced around. “Sorry, bro.”

“You listen for me, okay, Cas?” Dean said as he headed for the door.

>I will. Be safe.

Dean read his messages and just smiled in return before leaving.

“So, Dean, huh? He’s all right for some weirdo who’s dating a ghost, I guess,” Gabriel teased.

>You’re still a jackass, I see.

Gabriel grinned. “That’s me.” His smile faltered a bit. “Things were rough after Zach... Fuck, it’s still hard to talk about. I still can’t believe he fucking did that.” Gabriel walked over and sat on the couch.

>You don’t have to talk about it right now.

“No, it’s fine. I was, um... I was outside, getting the mail, when it happened. I heard you yell and when I looked up you were falling. I saw Zach standing there in the window and then you hit the ground and... It was fucking awful, kiddo,” Gabriel said quietly.

>I’m sorry you had to see it.

“Yeah, well, I’m sorry you had to go through it.” Gabriel cleared his throat, looking like he was fighting off tears. “Um, after that,” he continued, voice thick. “After that, Zach was arrested and we moved out of town. I came back, though. Couldn’t stand not getting to visit you every day.”

>Have they held the trial yet?

“Yeah. They waited to see if you’d live first, but you’re breathing on your own and everything, so the doctors said the chances of you dying were slim.” His voice hiccuped then. “Nobody could tell us why you weren’t waking up, though.” He dropped his head.

Cas floated over and put his arms around his brother. He didn’t know if Gabriel would be able to feel it, but Cas needed to feel _him_. Gabriel didn’t move, but after a moment, he lifted his head.

“Bro, are you... are you touching me right now?”

>Yes.

>Is that okay?

Gabriel gave a watery laugh. “Fuck, man, of course it’s okay! You need to get back to your body so you can do it for real, though.” He cleared his throat again. “Speaking of, Dean’s probably at the hospital now. He told me he hopes you’ll be able to hear him.”

>I heard you.

>But I couldn’t figure out how to get back.

“Well, listen for him. And keep trying to get back. We need you, Cas. Seriously.”

>I’m going to listen for him now.

>I might not communicate for a while.

“Yeah, no problem.”

Cas let himself drift, listening intently for that other space from which the voices and, he supposed now, the beeping sometimes came. At first he heard nothing at all, but after what felt like only a moment, he heard Dean’s voice, almost as if it were in the same room with him.

“Hey. Hey, Cas. Wow, this is you, huh?”

Suddenly, Cas could hear the beeping.

“Hey, what’s going on, man? Your heart monitor is going kinda crazy. Does that mean you can hear me?”

Cas tried to reach out for Dean, but then there were other voices, distracting him. The beeping became an annoyance. He came back to his floating consciousness in Dean’s living room. Gabriel was in the kitchen, staring out the window. Sam was out in the backyard doing yoga.

>Trying to learn yoga?

Gabriel jumped when his phone went off, looking as though he’d been caught out—which he had, but he was a grown man.

“Shut up. Why are you back here? Aren’t you supposed to be jumping back in your body?”

>I tried.

>I think the nurses came in to check on me or something.

>It was too much of a distraction.

>I snapped back here.

“Hm,” was Gabriel’s only response.

>So, Sam’s not bad looking.

“What? Shut up. I was just... curious about what he was doing.”

Cas said nothing, knowing it would probably get him more of a response from his brother than further words.

After a few moments of silence, Gabriel groaned. “Ugh, fine, okay? Yes, Sam’s hot, and yes, I was watching him because he’s hot. Are you happy?”

“Ecstatic,” Sam said from the doorway, smirking.

Gabriel made an inhuman noise of frustration, surprise and embarrassment and Cas wished he could truly laugh out loud.

>You should know that I am laughing at you.

“Oh, God. Shut up, Cas. I, um, hi, uh, Sam. I was just—”

“Hey, it’s cool, Gabriel. You’re pretty cute too,” Sam told him with a smirk. “If anyone needs me, I’ll be in the shower.” He started to leave the room, then called back over his shoulder. “I prefer not to have an audience for that, but I sometimes make exceptions.”

>So does his brother.

“You know what? I hate you, little brother. I take back all the nice things I’ve said to you in the hospital.”

>Shut up and go join Sam in the shower, idiot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's right - untagged Sabriel! BOOM! Yeah, I think I might have mentioned how I'm an asshole? Anyway, lovelies, I shall look forward to your comments and thoughts and answer when I get a free minute. OH! The new book comes out April 27! So it will be available for preorder in March. All you regulars (and I think you know who you are), if you get a chance to buy it, don't skip the dedication page, k? ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥


	10. What went on in your head?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean experiences highs and lows on the road to getting Cas back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off, sorry for how long it has been. There was the con and then I came home with con crud, so I am massively sick and am posting now because it is distracting me from how awful I feel. I want to tell you all about my experience and how great our cast is, but I do not have the energy just now. Just know that this cast genuinely cares about us. I'm not a trusting person by nature, but I assure you, these guys and gals are so sincere in their affection for us and the fandom. When you say something deep to them, they respond with depth. On the Richard Speight bus tour, RSJ made sure the bus driver got to sit down with us and have lunch with us (for free). A woman had a medical issue at Karaoke and Rob walked her off stage and all the way out to make sure she was okay. When my sister shared a very heartfelt thing with Jensen, he took her hand and made sure she knew he was happy she was there, Jared told her a similar thing, with a serious, intense face of concern. Mark, who acts like a snarky asshole on stage and in photo ops, always ALWAYS makes sure to make eye contact and smile and say a sweet thank you during autographs. Kim always greets you like an old friend. Matt is all smiles and thank yous and hearts on his autographs. I could go on, but I said I wasn't going to do this in the first place, lol
> 
> I don't know if this con topped my last Dallas con in terms of cool things that happened, but it really moved me deeply. 
> 
> ~~Also, Rich and Rob kissed my face in a photo op and they both have warm soft slightly moist lips and downy mustaches and I am die.~~

♫"...what goes on in your head?... did you talk to the dead?"♪ - Ozzy Osbourne, Mr. Crowley* 

*as sung by Rob Benedict at cons

“Cas? You around?” Dean called as he walked through the front door, closing it behind him.

>I’m here, Dean.

>I heard you for a minute.

>I couldn’t reach you, though.

>There were too many distractions in the room with you.

>Noises and people.

>I’m sorry.

“It’s okay, Cas.” Dean smiled. “We’ll keep at it, okay? I mean, you heard me, so that’s a big step, right?”

>I suppose it is, yes.

“Right. Um, it was weird. Your heart rate started going nuts right after I got there. That’s what all the noise was. They said it’s been doing that a lot more lately?” Dean scratched at his head. “They think it’s a good sign. I think it’s because of all the emotional stuff you’ve been going through, but that’s just me.”

>Well, either way, it means my mind and body are still closely connected.

>That has to be good, don’t you think?

“Yep. I do.” Dean’s smile faltered. “You’re so thin. I mean, I don’t know what you looked like, really, before, but Gabriel said you were athletic. I know they do exercises with you so your muscles don’t atrophy, but it doesn’t seem to have kept you in very good shape.” Dean cleared his throat. “I was thinking I might spend some extra time at the hospital until you wake up, to help exercise you, you know? If you don’t mind.”

>Whatever you think is best.

>Spending more time with you might help me wake up too.

“Hey, you’re back!” Gabriel said, coming down the stairs with Sam right behind him.

Cas noticed that both his and Sam’s hair were wet, and wondered if Dean would comment on it.

“Yeah, just got here. Cas is still here with us, in case you were, uh, too busy to realize,” Dean said with a smirk and a knowing glance at Sam.

“You know, I think I should probably get out of here, let you guys re—”

>Please don’t go yet, Gabriel.

“Oh. Um. Cas wants me to stay for a while. If that’s okay?” Gabriel looked only at Dean as he asked.

“It’s more than fine with me,” Sam said. He had a smug look on his face as he flopped onto the couch with his feet outstretched. “Stay as long as you like.”

Dean shot him a look. “You’re Cas’s brother. Of course, you can stay.” Dean leaned very close to Gabriel then, a menacing look on his face. “But if I hear you and _my_ brother and get scarred for life, I will make you sorry.”

Gabriel nodded, looking contrite and Cas had to laugh.

Dean grinned and clapped him on the shoulder. “Why don’t you have a seat while I make us all some dinner, huh?”

***

Sam cleared his throat as they sat down to eat the chicken Alfredo Dean had whipped together.

“Um, so, uh, Cas? I actually set up my iPad to a writing program. I thought that might be easier for you to communicate with all of us at once.” He scratched his head and took the bowl Dean offered him. “If it’s not, though, you can just use my phone. I just had some questions, if you don’t mind.”

Cas immediately tried using the iPad to type. It was about the same as sending a text, but now everyone could read it.

>This was very thoughtful of you, Sam. Please ask whatever questions you like. If I don’t want to answer, I won’t.

“Fair enough.” Sam smiled. “Uh, how long have you been hanging around here?”

>Since before Dean moved in. I’m afraid I am to blame for your feeling so cold when you first came over. You... upset me.

“Oh. Sorry, I guess.” Sam chewed and swallowed a few bites before continuing. “Um, how did I upset you?”

“I think I can answer that one, Sammy.” Dean reached for a second bread roll, lopsided grin on his face. “You kept trying to get me to go out with people who weren’t Cas.”

Gabriel snorted, which Cas found annoying. “Yeah, Cas has always been a little possessive.”

>Gabriel, you know very well that is not true.

“Oh, really? So you regularly let me play with your toys when we were kids?” Gabriel asked in mock innocence that Cas found infuriating.

>Jackass.

“Hey! I’m your favorite brother and you know it,” Gabriel said, taking a bite of his pasta.

Dean laughed, in spite of the grim nature of his realization. “Yeah, uh, not sure that’s exactly an achievement there, Gabe. The other brother literally tried to kill him.”

Gabriel looked unaffected. “Not relevant to how much Cas loves me.”

>Sam, I apologize for causing you discomfort.

It was Cas’s way of changing the subject. He did not want to dwell, even in jest, on what Zach had done.

“Hey, man, no big deal. Wasn’t like you poltergeisted and tried to throw shit at me or something,” Sam said with a chuckle. He sipped his beer, but nearly choked on it when Cas replied.

>No. I hadn’t learned how to do that yet.

Cas waited a beat before adding a winky face. Dean’s guffaw was worth the effort.

“See? Cas is awesome,” Dean said, digging into his remaining food with gusto.

***

In bed that night, Dean whispered to him in a low voice. “So, I guess I just keep visiting you and hope for the best, huh? Gonna touch you, like we talked about.” He smiled in the dark. “You’re pretty cute, even if you are a little scrawny right now.”

>I never claimed to be as beautiful as you, Dean.

Cas started stroking what passed for his hands up and down Dean’s chest. Dean hummed in appreciation.

“Can’t wait till you can do that for real, Cas.” He shifted slightly in the bed and cleared his throat. “Tomorrow, I was thinking maybe I’d try giving you a peck on the lips when I get to the hospital. That sound good to you?”

>I’d really like that.

Cas continued stroking Dean’s skin until he fell asleep. Ordinarily, Cas would drift for the rest of the night, but his thoughts were too active right now. He wanted, desperately, to find the way back to his body. To find his way to Dean. He promised himself that tomorrow, he would find a way. He would connect with his body and force himself to wake up.

If only he had a single idea how.

***

“Hey, Cas, you around?” Dean asked the next morning.

Evidently Cas had eventually gone drifting more than he’d intended because Dean was fully showered and dressed.

>I’m here. Sorry I was drifting earlier.

Dean gave a soft smile. “No problem. Um, listen, I was thinking that I’d spend most of the day at the hospital today? If that’s all right with you. Um, Gabriel’s gonna be there part of the time and we’re both gonna try a few things.”

>I’m hopeful of our success.

“Good. Any books you want me to read in particular?”

>Imajica by Clive Barker

“Okay. Not sure if I have it—”

>Gabriel does. I’m sure he won’t mind getting it.

Dean started to turn and then turned back. He was beaming. “I’m excited, Cas. I can’t wait till I can talk to you for real, man, I mean it.” Dean paused. “You have no idea how happy I am that you’re not dead.”

>Goodbye, Dean.

>I love you.

>I hope to see you with my eyes very soon. :)

“Same here. The, uh, eyes thing, I mean.” Dean blushed and walked out of the room, throwing up a wave as he left.

As soon as he had gone, Cas allowed himself to return to floating. He did his best to concentrate on the faint beeping sound, until it grew slightly louder. After what felt like a short time—but was probably at least half an hour—Cas heard voices along with the beeping. At first he couldn’t make out the words, so he had to concentrate even harder.

“ _Hey, little brother. I’m back and I brought Dean with me. You should really wake the fuck up and talk to us with that dumb scratchy voice you’ve got.”_

_“Hey, Cas.”_

Cas could feel a tingling along his arm, as if someone had brushed it with their hand. He reached his consciousness out toward the sensation. As before, the beeping grew louder and more frantic. Cas did his best to ignore it. He tried to hone in on the touch of Dean’s hand, but it was removed abruptly.

_“Cas? Come on, man, wake—”_

_“Sir, I told you, you have to....”_

Whatever the feminine voice was saying was lost as Cas snapped fully back into consciousness in Dean’s bedroom. He groaned in frustration.

Throughout the rest of the day, things went much the same. He would drift and start to hear Dean and/or Gabriel talking, sometimes touching him, and then, when he would begin to get drawn toward them, something would happen to snap his concentration and pull him back to the house.

When Dean and Gabriel finally returned to the house, they seemed tired, but not discouraged in the slightest.

“Hey, Cas! Come to the kitchen so we can talk on the iPad, okay?” Dean called out as soon as Gabriel had closed the front door.

>Hello, Dean. Gabriel. I’m sorry I wasn’t able to make it back today. I got closer, I think.

“Yeah? I thought maybe,” Dean said, smiling broadly.

“Man, I am exhausted. Who knew arguing with nurses could take so much out of you?” Gabriel stretched and popped his neck. “I don’t know if you heard all of the part, Cas, but it was pretty tense a few times. They kept yelling at us for getting your heart rate up.” Gabriel snorted. “Like, hello? We are _trying_ to wake you up. Responses are a good thing. Idiots.”

“Well, I think the nurses on shift were pretty new, though. Gabriel had never seen them before and they looked pretty young.”

>Hopefully tomorrow will be easier. Perhaps you’ll be able to speak with my doctor.

“Actually, yeah, she’s supposed to come in too.” Gabriel licked his lips. “Could I have something to drink? I’m a little parched from all the talking we did.”

“Oh, yeah, sorry. What’s your poison? Beer, water, soda, iced tea...?”

“Beer. Definitely beer.”

Dean grabbed a couple of bottles from the fridge and popped the tops. “I’m glad you think you got closer to getting back today. Maybe tomorrow is the day, huh?”

It was hard to resist Dean’s infectious enthusiasm. They were all three buoyed by it and soon the two non-comatose people turned one beer into several, and their conversation into an impromptu celebration. Cas couldn’t say he minded. It felt good being so cared about.

***

When Dean walked through the door on the tenth day of hospital visits, his face was wan. Gabriel had worked for the past several days, so he’d only been able to go for a few minutes a couple of times. Cas hated to see how slumped Dean’s shoulders were. His initial enthusiasm had drained away bit by bit until today he looked almost hopeless.

“Hey, Cas.” Dean’s voice was morose and exhausted. “No luck, huh?” He tossed his keys with a little more force than Cas was expecting.

>I’m sorry, Dean.

>I am trying, I promise.

Dean gave a derisive snort. “Yeah. Maybe.”

>Dean!

“What, Cas? Fucking _what_? Day after day I go to that hospital and I sit with your body. I touch you. I kiss your cold, chapped lips. I hold your hand. I talk and read to you until I’m hoarse.” His green eyes grew brighter as the whites of them turned red. “And you can’t seem to stop getting distracted long enough to get back to your body. I mean, it isn’t like you’ve got a lot else going on, Cas!”

>Dean, I’m TRYING

“Maybe you are. Or maybe....” Dean scrubbed a hand down his face. “Maybe you’re comfortable like this. Maybe you don’t actually want to be with me for real. Right now, you can just pop away whenever you need to. You don’t actually have to stay and face me if you get upset.”

>Dean, you’re being very unfair!

>You know very well that for months I thought I was *dead*.

>I didn’t think I still HAD a body.

>You think making a connection to it now is so easy?

Cas was getting angry himself now. How dare Dean accuse him of not wanting to get back? Not wanting to be with Dean? Hadn’t he thought of nothing else but being with Dean for _weeks_?

“You’re making it cold, asshole. And yeah, I think if you really wanted to be with me, it _would_ be easy.”

Cas’s anger reached a fever pitch then, as he watched Dean scrub his face with his hands and sigh.

“I’m sorry. I’m tired and hungry and just... please try, Cas. Okay? I know you want this. I’m sorry.”

Cas, however, was already too out of control with his anger. Proving at least one of Dean’s claims correct, he drifted suddenly, floating up and away from Dean. He could hear Dean calling to him, but he didn’t let himself acknowledge it. He drowned it out and let himself be untethered.

He heard the beeping, but he ignored it too. He floated to the sound of it, letting it lull him. Then after a while he heard another sound. A voice. He wasn’t sure how long it had been since his drift started, but he didn’t think the voice was Dean.

 _“Cas?_ _Baby bro, you need to come back now, all right?_

Gabriel. Obviously he was at the hospital. Cas, who was in the windowless attic, had no way of knowing if it was night or day, whether his float had lasted a few minutes or several hours—or even days.

_“Dean’s a good guy and I want you two to be happy. You deserve that. Um, but if I’m honest... I really just want my fucking brother back, man. Mom and Dad are a mess with or without you. Zach was always a douche and he’s in prison. You’re all I’ve got.”_

Cas felt something like wetness on his hand. He wondered if Gabriel might be crying, but it seemed unlikely. Then he felt it again just before Gabriel resumed speaking. His voice left little doubt. He was crying.

_“Cas, you’re the best of us, man, okay? I’m sorry we had kind of drifted apart by the time you died. When Kali dumped me I just kind of went off the deep end for a while. But I love you, bro. You’re one of the best people I know and you always have been. Please just fucking come back.”_

Cas heard the beeping increase and then a frustrated groan from his brother.

_“Fuck, they’re probably gonna come run me out in a second. I’ve said all this to you before, but I’m hoping this time you can actually hear me. Come back. Please. For me. For Dean. For yourself. Please, Cas. It sucks without you, man.”_

The beeping was so loud now and so erratic. This time, though, Cas didn’t try to drown it out. He listened to it. Concentrated on it. It finally occurred to him, _That beeping is the electronic sound of my heartbeat. I have a heart._

He focused his energy on the sound and then on the idea of what the sound represented. He had a heartbeat. He honed in on the rhythm, hoping it would lead him to the source. Then, suddenly, he could _feel_ it.

_Thump-thumo-thump-a-thump_

He could feel his blood, rushing through his veins. He could feel his chest rising as he drew in breath. He could feel—

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Most of all I love this show and fandom and cast because they brought me to you people! And I love you people. I can't remember if I mentioned that you frequent flyers in my comments section should check the dedication of my book, which comes out for [preorder](http://smile.amazon.com/Jamie-Dean/e/B00Y9UNMFM) on 3/27/16? (or 27/3/16, if you live in certain places) 
> 
> I will get to your previous comments soon. I have read them all and they gave me the energy to keep going when the con had me worn out, so thank you, darlings. ♥♥♥♥♥


	11. When I Wake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas had the strangest dream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it, kids. The finale. Please do enjoy. I hope it makes up for yesterday's cliffhanger. I'd originally intended to post this later yesterday, but I felt like death. Still pretty sick today, but somewhat less deathlike.

♫"When i wake the things i dreamt about you last night make me blush... when you kiss me like a lover..."♪ - Indigo Girls, Ghost

 

Cas opened his eyes to blinding brightness and immediately closed them again. _Fuck_ , he had a headache. And what on earth had he been dreaming?

“Cas?” and incredulous voice asked from somewhere to his right. “Cas, are you awake, buddy?”

He tried to answer, but his voice failed him. He cleared his throat and tried again, managing a hoarse whisper. Had he been out drinking the night before? Why couldn’t he remember?

“Gabewhayoudoinhere?” he asked in a barely audible mumble. “Haddastrangedream.”

“Cas, you’re—”

“Step aside please, we need to....” The rest of the sentence was lost to Cas’s confusion.

Suddenly there were people touching him from all sides. He tried to jerk away, but found he didn’t have the strength. What was going on? He tried to speak, but he was shushed. He could hear Gabriel yelling, trying to speak to him, until his brother was escorted from the room.

After a little while, he realized that he was in the hospital and the people surrounding him—poking and prodding and making him extremely uncomfortable—were nurses. They were speaking to him, but since he couldn’t answer them and they wouldn’t leave him alone, he refused to listen to anything they said.

Finally, he heard another voice. Female he thought. Definitely authoritative. The hands on him retreated. The voices died away. Then there was only a woman in a white coat and Gabriel.

“Mr. Godson? I’m Dr. Emma Jacobs, your neurologist. Do you know why you’re here?”

“Gabe?” Cas asked weakly.

“Hey, little brother, I’m right here.”

Cas accepted a long drink from the cup of water that was pressed to his lips. He coughed a bit, but his throat felt so much better.

Gabriel glanced at the doctor and she nodded. “Cas, you’ve been in a coma. You don’t remember anything?”

Gabe looked more upset by that idea than Cas could understand. Surely memory loss with a coma was to be expected. Surely the doctors had prepared him? Given how crestfallen he looked at Cas’s negative head shake, Cas thought perhaps they hadn’t.

“As your brother says, you’ve been in a coma. You suffered a traumatic brain injury when you... fell from the roof of your home and landed on some concrete.”

Cas _pushediwaspushediwas_ didn’t know why, but her description sounded false to his ears. Gabe’s refusal to meet Cas’s eyes only made that intuition stronger.

“You’ve going to require some physical therapy to get your muscles back up to normal. For now, you’ll be pretty weak. I also want to schedule some tests to check your cognitive function, but those can wait a little—”

“I’m here! We’re here! Where is he, Gabriel, where—”

 _Dean._ Instead of a small voice in his head, it felt like Cas’s entire being shouted the word. All of his memories—which up to that point had felt like a dream—came flooding back. The past several months, living in his childhood home. First alone, and then with his beautiful Dean.

“H’lo, Dean,” he rasped out, facial muscles strong enough for a smile.

“Hey, Cas,” Dean said in a soft, awed voice.

The doctor cleared her throat. “As I was saying, you’ll need some tests, but we can hold off on those until tomorrow. I’ll get you set up for PT and the tests and check back in with you tomorrow, all right?”

Cas forced his eyes back to the doctor and nodded weakly. Then she was gone and his eyes were drawn right back to Dean. From somewhere behind Dean, another throat cleared.

“Okay, you two can have the room in just a minute, but I’m getting a damn hug from my brother first and you better say hi to Sam too.”

Gabriel suddenly broke in between Dean and the bed to gather Cas up in a hug that stole his breath.

“God, it’s so good to see you again, Cas,” Gabe whispered in his ear. He sounded on the verge of tears. “I love you, you know that, right?”

“You too, Gabriel,” Cas said, starting to find his voice at last, even if he couldn’t squeeze back very tightly.

Next, Sam—who was much taller than Cas had realized when he was merely an entity—came up to the bed to wave and squeeze his own brother in a one armed hug.

“We’ll be right outside, Dean,” Sam said with a smile at Cas.

Then they were alone.

“Your eyes are so damn blue,” Dean blurted when the door closed.

Cas found himself laughing slightly. “That green isn’t exactly low-key, either, you know.” He wondered how long his voice would sound like thunder. Since it was currently the only strong thing about him, he didn’t mind too much.

“Yeah, yeah.” Dean smiled. “It’s fucking good to see you, man.” He reached out and took one of Cas’s hands in his, stroking the fingers lightly with his thumb. “Touch you too.”

“Sounds like I have a lot of rehab ahead of me,” Cas said, dropping his gaze to the bed. Surely Dean wouldn’t want such a burden.

“Yeah, but don’t worry. I mean, I’m not gonna just leave it to some PT guy to get you better. I’m gonna come up here every day too. Give you a second work out and sneak you protein shakes.”

Dean was grinning, but Cas could see he was completely serious. Something tight in his chest let go. Dean still wanted him. Which brought up another issue.

“Going to be a while before we can go back to touching the way we were.”

Dean snorted, causing Cas to frown indignantly. “Dude, you mean the way _you_ were. I never got to touch. Holding your hand like this is the most action I’ve gotten the whole time.”

Cas let out a snuffling laugh that was wholly undignified—and he didn’t give a single shit.

***

“Cas, come on, man, hurry up!” Dean called from the doorway.

Cas was just finishing his packing. After three room changes and two very long months—not including the ones he couldn’t remember—he was finally leaving the hospital. True to his word, Dean had been there every single day. The doctors were shocked at how quickly Cas had recovered.

“You’ve waited this long, Dean, surely you can wait another thirty seconds.” His tone was dry and he didn’t even bother to look up.

Dean stalked over and pressed up against his back, breath hot in Cas’s ear.

“They cleared you for sex, hot shot, and we’ve got the house to ourselves,” Dean murmured.

“What the hell are you waiting for? Take this to the car!”

He and Dean stopped to grin at each other. Then the nurse came in the room, pushing a wheelchair. He helped Cas get into the chair while Dean looked on, anxiety written all over his face.

“You sure you’re not going too fast with this discharge, Cas? You don’t want to take another week or—”

“Dean. Have you already forgotten what we were discussing only moments ago?”

Dean’s skin flushed a beautiful pink color and he smiled, dropping his head to stare at the floor.

“Yeah, let’s get you home.”

The ride to Dean’s was quiet, though not awkward. Cas drank in the scenery. He’d grown up in this town, but, except for a couple of short trips Dean had managed to talk the doctor into, Cas hadn’t seen anything except his hospital room—and scenery on terrible television shows—for months.

“I, uh, I think Sam might be moving out.”

“Oh? Not because of me, I hope.” Cas was genuinely afraid that might be the case.

“Nah. I think he wants to be on his own for a while. He’s never really lived alone before. I think he wants a chance to see how he likes it.” Dean smirked as he made the turn onto their street. “And he probably wants more privacy for whatever he and your brother get up to.”

Cas chuckled. He would have said more, but just then the house came into view. So many things flashed into his head _pushediwaspushediwas_ as he swept his gaze over the lawn and front facade. This house had started out with so many unhappy memories for him. Then he looked over at Dean and realized they’d all been worth it.

“I’m glad you’re the one who bought this house, Dean.”

The grin Dean gave him lit up Dean’s face, the car and the yard, as far as Cas was concerned.

“Me too.” He pulled into the driveway and cut the ignition. “You ready to go inside and see how many surfaces we can defile before Sam gets home?”

Dean got out without waiting for an answer, heading to the trunk to retrieve Cas’s things and missing Cas’s throaty chuckle. Cas understood that the posturing and jokes and bravado were Dean’s way of covering up his nerves. He didn’t mind in the slightest, but he intended to take Dean at his word. He thought several of the surfaces could probably use a good defiling, and heaven knew he could use a decent orgasm or twelve. Hadn’t he waited long enough to touch that beautiful man?

Cas carefully got out of the car. He wasn’t quite back to full strength yet, but he’d put on a lot of muscle and he was getting there. He still got tired easily, but he intended to really test his endurance today. He didn’t know where he would get the stamina for marathon sex with Dean, but he was going to find it, dammit.

“You coming, slowpoke?” Dean teased from the open doorway.

“Just getting my bearings, assbutt.”

“Well, get your bearings _inside_ , Cas.”

Cas made his way to the porch, glaring at Dean the whole way. It had little effect on Dean’s grin, however. Or, it seemed, his libido. As soon as Cas was through the door, Dean slammed it shut and pressed Cas up against it. That sensuous mouth clamped onto his own in a searing kiss.

Cas made a happy noise in his throat and flipped their positions. Once he had Dean pinned, he took advantage of the way Dean’s lips parted in surprise and slipped his tongue between them. Dean let out a soft sigh and licked back at Cas eagerly. Dean’s arms were wrapped tightly around Cas’s shoulders, while Cas’s hands were bunched in the front of Dean’s shirt.

Cas pulled back abruptly and started stripping.

“Take off your clothes,” he demanded.

“Wow, you don’t waste time, huh?”

“I think we’ve wasted enough time. I need your naked skin under my hands and mouth _now_ ,” he growled with growing impatience.

Dean kicked off his shoes and slipped off his socks while Cas did the same. Cas was too interested in getting rid of his own clothes to worry about watching Dean’s come off. He realized his mistake, however, when he looked up and had the breath knocked out of him. He held out a shaking hand to touch Dean with his finger tips.

“You’re even more gorgeous than I remember.” His voice was reverent, awed, and he didn’t even care. And fuck if Dean didn’t blush so pretty for him.

“You’re not so bad yourself there, Cas.” Dean sounded just as shaky, just as raw, as Cas felt.

Cas dragged his gaze up to meet Dean’s and everything he saw there calmed his nerves and set fire to the pit of his belly. He loved this man. Loved him and wanted him more than he’d ever loved or wanted anything in his life. More than he’d ever thought he could.

He attacked Dean’s mouth again, hissing into the kiss when their cocks brushed against each other. He groaned in frustration and rocked his hips forward.

“God, I wanna open you up and take you apart, but I don’t think I’m going to last long enough for that.”

Dean whined. “Me either,” he said, breathless. “Hand or mouth?”

Without a word, Cas sank to his knees.

“Cas, I meant—”

Cas cut Dean off by taking his rock hard length into his fist. He looked up at Dean as he licked over the head. Dean’s face was a study in arousal: flushed cheeks, flared nostrils, open mouth, and pupils as wide as saucers. Cas swirled his tongue and Dean whimpered, never breaking eye contact.

“Feels so much fucking better than your ghost touch, Cas.” Dean laughed, a little hysterical sounding. “And I thought _that_ was fucking hot as hell.”

Cas slipped Dean into his mouth, rolling his lips over his teeth. He could taste Dean on his tongue and he suckled slightly, hoping to draw a bit more of the salty flavor. He wasn’t disappointed. He also draw a long, low groan from Dean as he slid further down on his erection.

“Fuck, baby!”

Cas hadn’t known it was possible to grin around a cock, but he learned. He liked pet names from Dean. He also liked Dean out of control. Cas didn’t think he was out of control enough, though. So he quickly set a pace and suction that had Dean gasping high pitched whines and Cas’s name along with every swear word Cas had ever heard—and some he hadn’t.

Dean didn’t warn him, but there was no need. Cas felt Dean’s scrotum drawing up under his palm and made sure to take Dean’s length all the way in. He swallowed Dean’s release, reveling in the hoarse shouts and moans Dean was crying out as Cas suckled at Dean until he jerked away, too sensitive.

Dean’s legs were obviously wobbly, but after a kiss that tasted like Dean, he said, “Your turn,” and pushed Cas over toward the couch.

Dean dropped between Cas’s knees and engulfed him, tight wet heat suddenly surrounding his throbbing erection until he thought he might die from the pleasure. He slid a hand over the back of Dean’s head then down to his neck. One of Dean’s hands caressed his hip while the other spiked Cas’s pleasure by rolling his balls together.

It had been too long. As much as Cas wanted this to last, it just felt too glorious. That heat and pleasure built too quickly for him to hold back for long.

“Dean!” he shouted, unable to get out the full warning before he unloaded shot after shot into Dean’s eager mouth.

Dean worked him through his orgasm and the aftershocks, pulling off when he got too sensitive, but also giving Cas’s head one last lick that had him jerking in his seat.

“Assbutt,” Cas murmured, but he was smiling too much for it to have any heat.

“You love me.”

Cas’s eyes flew open, to find Dean’s staring back. He wasn’t sure where the courage came from. He hadn’t spoken the words since he’d woken up in the hospital.

“Yes. I do.”

Dean’s eyes lit up. “Yeah? That’s awesome. It would kinda suck otherwise. Since, you know, I love you back.”

Cas’s heart was pounding in his chest and in his ears. “You... you do?”

“Pfft. Of course I do. You think I come to the hospital every day for just anybody?”

Cas slowly shook his head.

“Damn right.” Dean gave him a quick peck. “I love you, Cas. Your brother Zach is the biggest asshole and possibly one of the worst brothers ever, but... I’m a little bit glad about it.” This last was spoken in a whisper.

“I don’t regret a thing, Dean.”

They both had unshed tears in their eyes, but Dean predictably decided to break the tension. Cas didn’t mind at all.

“We still got a couple hours before Sam comes home.” Dean waggled his eyebrows. “Wanna defile the kitchen next?”

As always, when he looked at Dean, Cas was helpless to resist.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, as always, for coming along on this journey with me. I do hope you enjoyed the ride. ♥♥♥

**Author's Note:**

> A word of warning, the chapter lengths on this baby are going to be uneven. 
> 
> Title is from the song "[Ghost](https://youtu.be/KwbeHSI-3Co?list=PLCQjXgrhFLtxjkw0TTLPdWE5uSDl3T7Io)" by the Indigo Girls, which you should go listen to immediately.
> 
> You long time readers know comments and kudos are my life's breath, so please feel free to tell me all the things. ♥♥♥  
> However, if you are new, please make sure to read my [comment policy](http://archiveofourown.org/users/wannaliveindeansdimples/profile) first, won't you? Bless. ♥


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